Picture Prompt Challenge
by Kimmydonn
Summary: These are my entries on the Picture Prompt Challenge at Blogspot: picprompt . blogspot . com
1. Week 2: Daydreams

http:// picprompt . blogspot . com/2010/05/kimmydon-week-2-entry-daydreams . html

_Disclaimer/warning: characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Some sexual scenarios. Treat this as being rated R in the movie sense._

I walk through the new house, thrilled to have been able to put my own touches to Esme's beautiful plans. I had a place for my lace, my knitting, my new Singer... I am all set for the next big fad to become clear to me so I can cash in on it. Bell-bottoms had been such a pay off. No one believed me, especially not Emmett who had later begged me to make him 'bells big enough for his balls' - groan.

They weren't here. Emmett and Rosalie were on yet another honeymoon. Jasper and I satisfied ourselves with the one so far. We didn't flaunt ourselves around Esme and Carlisle and vice versa, but Rose and Em?

_F__l__ash__  
__Emmett pressing himself to Rosalie, his hands sliding under her shirt. Rose's hands tangling in her hair as she gently kisses his nose. Emmett continues to slide down her body, taking her skirt with him.__  
__  
_Damn those two! Didn't I have to see and hear enough of that when they were _here?_ Jasper, of course, knows exactly what is on my mind and wraps arms around me. I nudge him with my hip, making my true feelings clear. I'm horny; I'm irritated. I wasn't newborn; I shouldn't be this easily distracted.

"They at it again?" Edward calls from his room. His voice was a speaking tone, but I can hear him out here in the entry-way.

"When aren't they?" Jasper asks aloud.

"Um, when you are?" is Edward's snide reply.

I begin picturing Irinia and Kate setting his music collection on fire.

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry."

_You better be.__  
__  
_Jasper chuckles, feeling my satisfaction at getting the better of my terribly annoying, mind-reading brother.

I look at the sketch of the Eiffel Tower, thinking about my upcoming show in Paris. Well, it's mine but it isn't. I used an alias, of course - the anonymous designer of the House of Raffin. They were happy enough to take my offerings under their name, and I was thrilled to see my pretties on the runway.

And there they are. I turn, twirling on the hardwood, watching the models that would wear my beautiful dresses, suits, blouses, hats.

_F__l__ash__  
__Tanya with a human man. He lies under her as she rides wildly. Her eyes closed, her mouth open, shouting. "More, more."__  
__"Oh, Baby. I don't know how much more I've got. You feel like you're killing me. Ugh. Pulling me right off, fuck. Fuck! Ow! OW! Aaah!"__  
__  
_I sit hard on the floor, my hands over my face, in my hair. I need detail. When? Could I stop her? Dark, it's dark. I look back, when did they begin? Dusk. She tries to help him off the bed, but he isn't able to stand. Dawn on the windows. It must be summer.

I lift my head to Edward's eyes. Jasper's hands are on my shoulders. "You'll call?"

"Yeah. Did you get a name?"

I shake my head. "You saw him. She'll know. She didn't just pick him up."

"What is it, love?"

I shake my head again. "It's fine Jaz. We'll stop it."

_Flash__  
__Edward braced over a brunette. He moves over her and her eyes widen before going to dark.__  
_  
_OH WHEN THE SAINTS, COME MARCHING IN!__  
__OH WHEN THE SAINTS...__  
__  
_Edward looks at me and I run from the room. I don't want him to see that. How far have I gone? There it is, the five mile mark. Jasper is less than a second behind me.

"What?"

"The first, the one he saw, was Tanya. She's going to injure her lover. The second, the one I blocked." I stop. I don't want to tell him. It's hard enough for me to keep this from Edward; I don't want Jaz to have to worry too. "The second was a human girl and male vampire. Just as bad though. No time soon."

Jasper hugs me. "It's all right, Ali-cat. We'll make it better. You and me."

I return his hug and take his hope. I can't tell him that I don't want to make it better. I want Edward to have that, to have her. I want her to be ours.


	2. Week 3: One Way

**Kimmy's Photo Prompt - Week 3**

http:/ loveheartbreakteardrops . files . /2009/06/px001220_22_28urban-romance-posters . jpg

This one shot is original with no Twilight reference at all. Hope you like it anyway. :)

**Title: One Way**

Another sweltering hot day in this stinking city. My skin feels like it's covered in a slick of slime - dust mingled with sweat. Could I feel more disgusting?

My hair is short, thankfully. God bless Lisa for counseling me to cut it. The thought of my thick black ponytail is enough to make me pant.

My halter leaves my shoulders and arms open to the air, but that also means open to the grime. A train pulls out of the station just as I reach the platform, sending another cloud of grit into the air. I look at my plum painted toes.

"Fucking damn."

That was my train. So much for getting to work on time. Ben said he was going to fire me the next time I was late. Thank God the cinema was my second, crappier job. It required me to go home for my uniform after a day of doing what I loved, guiding tours of historic buildings and landmarks. Occasionally a bratty child or particularly ornery senior, the kind who feels the need to let us all know how it was in his day, which is not actually as far back as the stories I try to tell, make my job less than perfect. Still, it beat the crap out of filling cups and buckets with sugar and grease. Even so, the cinema came with perks, perks like air conditioning.

I turn at the sound of another cuss. A man with skin the exact shade I love my morning coffee stands on the bottom step. He walks to my side, his messenger bag between us.

"That was Northbound, wasn't it?" His voice is warm and mellow. On a day when I'm not wearing the city's shit on my skin, it would have had me fondly remembering my trip to Costa Rica. Now it just makes me feel sweatier.

"Yep. I'm fired." I pull my bottle of water from my bag.

"Huh. I'm single." He isn't looking at me.

I scoff. "Not the first train you've missed," I assume.

"Nope. She wasn't the girl of my dreams anyway. Too needy." He looks at me now and smirks. "You don't seem too broken up about the job."

"Nah. It was a part-time pocket liner. I'll be living off cereal for a few weeks until I find another." I shrug.

"Damn. I wish Hannah was like you. She'd be whining at me to let her stay at my place, lend her money..." He looks to the tracks again, then back at me. "I think I'm glad I missed that train."

I smile and swallow more water.

"Do you ever take the train south?"

"Yeah. I do tours all over the city."

"Tours, eh? What do you charge?"

I smirk and cap my water. "You can pay me in food," I suggest. "Dinner?"

"You aren't even going to try to go to work?"

"You aren't even going to try to patch things up?"

He snorts. "Touché."

"You'll understand if I'd rather take the train north. I should probably shower before going anywhere." I wipe a hand over my face.

He runs a finger down my bare arm. I had thought I was hot before. His finger feels like a brand on my skin. The trail in the grit and grime reveals my pale pink, slightly sunburned skin.

"There a grocer near your place?"

My eyes narrow.

"I could cook while you shower." He smiles

"If by cooking you mean chopping, I'm in. Please, no actual heat."

He chuckles and puts a hand around my waist. "Only of the chili variety," he says in a lusty tone.

"Spicy," I murmur, turning into him.

A train pulls into the station, blowing a new billow of dirt at us. I reflexively tuck my head into his shoulder. I feel his breath in my ear as he does the same.

I don't step far from him, keeping my hand on his arm as I enter the car.

"But this one is going south," he protests.

"For now." I pull him onto the seat, straddling him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He tastes like my morning coffee too.


	3. Week 4: Isle Esme

**Kimmy's Photo Prompt - Week 4**

**Photo 1: ****www thezeal com/photography/2005/09/romance jpg**

**Photo 2: ****www stjohnweddings com/Jpgs/romance-jan2 jpg**

**Photo Choice:** both

**Title: **Isle Esme**  
****  
****Disclaimer:** Characters and story belong to Stephenie Meyer, but I'm the one that makes Edward run screaming. He's running because he's under 18, and if you are, you should too.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Esme asked again, never touching the dark silk scarf I had tied around her eyes.  
"It's a surprise. Not much longer, I promise." I gunned the motor of the boat a little more.  
I watched her fingers move to her throat, to the string of pearls I'd tied there before boarding. One pearl for every year since I'd brought her into my world, into my life. Over fifty now, they made a solid chain around her neck. I looked once more at our course and then tipped my head to kiss the white column the pearls wrapped around.  
She smiled and reached for me.  
"Not yet," I whispered, grabbing one of her hands. "Less than a minute." I could see the dock in the distance now. I cut the engine, letting the tide pull us the last few feet, after our momentum was spent. I kissed Esme's cheek before stepping out to moor the boat. I jumped back in, sweeping her into my arms.  
"Carlisle," she said with a laugh. "When do I get to see where we are?"  
"When we get there," I answered, running.  
I came to a stop in front of the beach house. It was sparsely decorated. Rosalie helped me put in a few essentials, a bed, a couch, but we knew Esme would want to fix it as she liked. We were far enough from the house that she could see the whole building, nearer the beach than the building. I put my fingers to the knot and pulled the scarf free.  
"Happy anniversary," I whispered into her ear.  
She looked at the house for less than second before turning to face me in the setting sun. The red shattered into blues and purples as well on our skin. "For me?"  
"For you, all of it." I held my arms out to indicate the whole beach.  
"The island?" she asked incredulous.  
"Yes. A place for just us, to be us."  
She smiled brightly. "I love our children, Carlisle, but sometimes..."  
"You can't be yourself with them. I know. You can here. With me. Come inside." I took her hand and led her into the house.  
The room was dominated by the bed, white linens with a white netted canopy. The rest of the room was empty but for a pair of red roses on the floor.  
"Drat. I meant to spread those out as petals," I muttered.  
"Nonsense." She picked one up and fastened it in her hair. She turned to me again, putting her arms around my neck. "They are perfect the way they are. Together."  
I picked the other up and tucked it behind her left ear. "Well then we should keep them together, shouldn't we?" Unable to wait any longer, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her body tight to mine, feeling how her curves molded to my planes. Her lips met mine and it was as though our first kiss had come again.

Esme pulled my lip into her mouth, laving it with her tongue. Then she scraped her teeth very slowly over it, drawing a moan from me. It was half reaction, half reenactment. I wanted to make it more accurate. I scooped her legs up, laying her on the bed, One of the roses fell out of her hair, back to the floor. She closed her eyes, knowing what I was asking for.  
"Esme? Can you hear me? It's over now. Can you open your eyes?"  
She opened her burnished golden eyes. I remembered when they were brilliant red, trained on me just as they were now, full of fire, just as they were now.  
She reached up, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me atop her. "Poor Edward," she mused, reminiscing with me.  
"He's not here," I reminded her in a whisper.  
Lips were no longer wasted on idle words. She was pulling my lip again, her hand tearing my shirt from my body. I groaned as I had before, my hand running down her neck, over the scars I had made. My hand caught the string and the clasp released easily. It fell to the floor by the rose. Her hands were on my sides now, rolling me onto the bed. I made my expression one of surprise and shock.  
She snarled over me and I twitched in response, she had to have felt it against her thigh. Mind you, now that I recalled, she probably did the first time too. Her nails raked down my chest, making me arch up into her. They continued down, ripping my pants open. She slid forward and dropped upon me. I growled, sitting up, still buried in her.  
"What are you-?"  
Her lips crashed into mine again, her tongue making its way into my mouth. My hands tightened on her back, ripping open her dress, pulling it down her arms. She moved her legs around me, sinking deeper again. I tore away the remaining fabric between us.  
She broke our kiss, leaning back to bear down further on me, squeezing me inside her. I held her waist and pressed into her, reveling in the feeling of oneness, the moist warmth inside her, the tight confines she shared only with me.  
"Esme," I groaned, coming as quickly as I had then.  
"Dr. Cullen!" she screamed.  
I couldn't help it, I laughed. She giggled too, sitting up. "Perhaps reenactments can go too far," she mused with another chuckle.  
"You were so forceful, so strong," I remembered, kissing her throat, twitching again within her. God gave me few gifts in this new life, but this was one of them; I would never leave her less than fully satisfied. "So amazingly beautiful, so confident."  
"So innocent!" she laughed as she said it. "I knew nothing. You remember? I nearly took your nipple off before you warned me."  
I laughed now too. "Poor, poor Edward," I said, echoing her earlier comment.  
She laughed harder. "He forgave us."  
"He ran away!" I continued to laugh, falling back on the pillows. "Not for long that time, but I'm sure he ran through four counties before circling back."  
She was still laughing. "And we were still at it."  
"Of course we were," I said huskily, rolling over her. "I couldn't get enough of you after the first taste." I put my mouth right to where I'd put that first bite.  
She moaned, moving around me. Locking my mouth on hers, I thrust, long slow strokes, from tip to hilt, each one making her arch and pull from my mouth slightly. I thumbed her nipples, grazing the top of them, eliciting more moans. "Carlisle."  
I didn't answer, keeping the suction on that spot. I couldn't leave more of a mark than I already had, but I knew the pleasure the sensation gave her. I pressed against her skin with my tongue, and she tightened her legs on my hips, holding me inside her.  
Trying to hold me inside her. My strokes were faster and shorter now, but I wasn't stopping before she climaxed on me. She was close, I could feel it, the rippling inside her, massaging me, drawing me nearer my second release.  
I circled my tongue this time and let my teeth pierce her skin.  
"Yes!" she screamed, the sting of venom, pressing her past the threshold she'd clung to. She rocked on me now, thrusting her hips up and back. I met each one with my own, finally letting her neck go.  
I felt my face contort as she squeezed the fluid from me. Her face was exultant, glorious. She relaxed slightly. "Why does that set me off?"  
I shrugged, smiling. "I'm just glad I figured it out." I licked over the small cuts I had made. I curled into her side, snuggling for a moment. Nothing felt as good as Esme in my arms. "I know God has forgiven me."  
She shook her head. "I've told you Carlisle, you have no more sin than the worst human. Less, I wager. But if you take me as proof of that, then take it. And take it again, and again, and again." She rolled atop me, taking me into her mouth. "I know I intend to."

* * *

Only because I have pimped it on EVERY story lately. I'm writing a Summer Review story. Head over and review. Please? www fanfiction net/u/2303382/


	4. Week 5: Atonement

Week 5 of the the Photo prompts. This is another original one. Link for pictures: picprompt blogspot com/2010/06/kimmydon-week-5-entry-atonement html

* * *

This was the worst lapse in judgement I've ever had. What did I think would happen? I'd gone with a strange man to a random, cheap motel. I wasn't a hooker; I wasn't a slut; I wasn't even easy. I'd only had sex once in my life, and that had been an awkward painful experience in the back of Jesse's Echo. At least Daniel had a full-size car.

It had been a pretty average day for me. Kicking myself down the beach, letting the surf roll over my toes, wishing my guilt were so easily washed away. My family continued to tell me not to blame myself, but how could I not? She had been my responsibility, she was in my care. The warm water on my toes tickled and the spray masked the tears that wouldn't stop.

So what had I been thinking? I hadn't thought, obviously. I was completely infatuated with those warm brown eyes and his boyish smile. He'd found me on the beach and swept me up in happy thoughts, gentle touches, whispers of endearment. He'd found me when all I wanted was someone to make me feel special, loved. He'd succeeded where my family and friends had failed. He'd made me forget. My mind went back to the pinnacle of that afternoon, sitting on the sand, his arms around me, watching the surf rise to touch our feet. His legs wrapped around mine, both our toes being tickled by the lapping water. 

"Come with me?" he had asked. He hadn't been specific and I hadn't been curious. I'd let him take me to a tiny diner, a hole in the wall, with great grits and pork chops. His eyes had never left mine and it'd made me warm and tingly everytime I'd noticed. 

After paying for my meal - despite my insistence that I could cover it myself - he'd driven me _here_. I'd been reluctant to leave the car. I wasn't a complete idiot. Well, no, obviously I am a complete idiot, that's why I'm dead. You can't really get dumber than getting yourself killed, right?

Still, I'd had sense enough to know something was wrong when he pulled in outside the scungy nameless motel, and I'd hesitated. He'd kissed my cheek again, the way he'd kissed my lips, my shoulders and my neck on the beach. I had closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling.

"No pressure. This is just where I'm staying. I don't live here. We can watch a movie or something."

I nodded and let my breath go in a huff. Then I unfastened my seatbelt. He opened my door for me and offered his hand, like in a movie. I giggled and took it. He kissed my hand and then my lips, pulling me with him to the door of Room 104. He tugged a key with a large plastic tag on the chain from his pocket, slipping it into the lock. 

He wasn't kidding about not living here. He had one bag with a few days of clothes and three sets of water shorts tossed around the spare furniture. He blushed quickly and started throwing them back in his bag. "I wasn't expecting to meet anyone today," he apologized. 

I knew what he meant. I never dreamed I would be going home with someone when I went to the beach alone, looking for atonement, wanting the rise and fall of the tide to wash away my pain, my sin. 

"There, now it doesn't look like a slob is staying here." He flopped on top of the bedspread, stretching his legs out over the mattress and spreading an arm over the second pillow.  
I blushed a little and clambered into his side while he flipped on the TV. 

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, bringing up the pay per view menu. 

I shrugged. "I'm not picky. Nothing gory." 

"Nothing gory... You have to be kidding me!" He stopped briefly on the horror screen he was flipping past to yell at it. "You don't put 'Hostel' or '1408' on your pay per view!" 

I laughed with him. "No kidding. Good way to make your guests run away." 

His arm tightened on me, and he kissed my ear. "No running away." 

I blushed again. 

"How about, 'I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry'?" 

"Sure." I let him call it up and flipped the pillows behind us so we could lean on the headboard. 

He walked to the tiny bar fridge and pulled out a beer. "Want one?" he asked. 

I nodded and he grabbed a second. 

We laughed, talked, drank, kissed, touched. It was an easy night. It was getting later and I didn't want to go home. He didn't want me to go home. The movie credits ran while he kissed me, his hand pulling up my skirt. 

As soon as the TV dimmed, he changed. I don't know what caused it, why he did it, but suddenly his hands were on my throat. 

I coughed. I scratched at his wrists. I squirmed and tried to kick him off, but it was no use. I fainted from lack of oxygen, but didn't die. No, death was to be a long way off. He used me first. Then he left me, laying on top of the comforter, in a pool of blood and other fluid while he threw his bag in the back of his car. I stood, seeing but unseen, as he pulled away. 

No one knew where I was. No one was looking for me. I would be a number, not a name. I had been looking for atonement. I supposed, in one way, I had found it.

* * *

Thanks to Sharebear and Hev99 for the beta work. So I like to pimp contests, here are a couple looking for nominations. Check them out! twificpics com/vampawards/ and twitasticawards webs com/ So, go, nominate me, nominate someone else. Just take a look at the contests. :)


	5. Week 6: A Werewolf in Toyko

picprompt blogspot com/?zx=d83d44884878eca0

Time for another Twilight piece, right? Okay. :) If you read my Nessie stories, this would totally fit right into the timeline I've created there, after On My Own, well before Ephraim, right around where I want to write another...

* * *

Kimmydon's Choice: Pic 2

Title: A Werewolf in Tokyo

I've never been to Japan before, but when Nessie says, 'jump,' my first response is, "no." Wait, that didn't make sense. What I mean is she jumps into everything and I'm chasing after to catch her. So I yell, 'no'...

Anyway. This time her jumping has brought her to Japan. It's either suffer while she's gone or follow on her heels. I don't mind travel as a rule, so when she told me she was going on a work exchange to Japan, I bought a ticket. Don't tell Edward, but we're sharing the bed. It's too expensive to get a second room, and it's not like we need it; she doesn't want it, I don't give it, plain and simple. When that changes though...

I pass yet another man who doesn't come up to my armpit and shake my head. What am I going to do with myself all day? I fit in like a blackberry among the raspberries. Or like the big Indian among the short Asians. Well, literally like the... you get the idea. Six seven is definitely above average in the US; it's off the damn charts here. At least they make their buildings big, even if they aren't. I've only cracked my head twice since I've been here, and both times have been on the cabs. Their cars are ridiculously small.

Alice should have come with Ness. I'm looking at these shops and can practically hear the little pixie in my head, gushing about this and that. I'm pretty positive nothing here comes in my size. I wonder how some of it would look on me though, so I pick up a silk shirt from one of the tables and hold it up to myself. The girl at the table quirks a smile before looking down quickly. Another thing I can't get used to, no one _looks_ at anyone else in this place. Everyone is always staring at their feet.

"Bigger?" I ask. The colours look really good on me, actually, and I kinda like the feel of it. As she's digging under the table in a box, I notice the tag and choke. 3 000 yen! Then I remember that that's actually 30 bucks - not cheap but not ludicrous. Their prices throw me every time. Nessie had to smack me to pay the bill at the restaurant because I couldn't stop staring. The woman emerges with a larger piece of fabric.

"A-rig-a-toe," I say in a terrible accent, but she smiles anyway. I hold it up to check the size. It might actually fit. "May I try it on?" I ask slowly. Most people here know some English.

"Hai!" She gestures for me to continue.

I open the buttons and pull the shirt on carefully, I don't want to tear it if it is too small.

"Berry biga," she says in her accent. She's right, I am, and so is the shirt. It's not long sleeved so that doesn't matter, it reaches my waist, which is nice, and its not too tight in the shoulders.

I pull out my wallet and find the yen Nessie had left with me. I shake my head at the 2 000 written on the bills, it looks so odd. I snag two and give them to the girl with a bow. I have picked up a few of their mannerisms, or rather Ness has coached me in some.

"Arigatto," she says with a deep bow. "Konichiwa."

"Cone-ye-chwa," I say, butchering their language again. The girl giggles behind her hand, but bows again. I continue down the street, stopping at a vendor for pastry. Some of their food is down-right disgusting, but red-bean filling is not. I hope this fish shaped pie isn't filled with something else... It looks like red-bean. I break it open before biting in. Score! I down the tail in two large bites. I hear a pair of giggles and turn my head. Two women are using a parasol to shield themselves from the sun. They hide their smiles, just like everyone else here. They whisper in their language very quickly. The one looks at me, then back at her friend. "Nani? Iie!" I know those words. What and no. I wonder what the friend just dared her to do.

"Cone-ye-chwa," I greet them, bowing slightly.

They titter again before bowing. "Konichiwa."

I watch them walk ahead of me, enjoying my fish head. I might have to go back and get another. I sense Nessie just before I smell her, and feel her on my back another second later.

"Miss me?" she asks.

"Always. So, what did you do today?"

"NICU!" she tells me enthusiastically, turning in a circle. Her ridiculous pigtails swing around her. Well, I thought they looked ridiculous, but now that I recalled, a lot of women here wore their hair in pigtails. "There was one little boy there, only 4 pounds! He's got a heart transplant scheduled for the end of the week. I get to assist!" I would never be able to share her medical enthusiasm. I understand that babies were cute, although the newest born ones are less so. But operating on something so small? She's good at it though, or they wouldn't be letting her do it. I'm proud of her - the second Doctor Cullen. I wish she were Doctor Black. I kick the thought away. One day. She is happy where we are, which means I am too. Stupid imprints. I wasn't happy unless she was happy, and the reverse was true as well. Do I wish we shared more than friendly pecks, good God, yes. But it isn't about what I want, what I am ready for. She's only thirteen, for all she looks twenty. I smile as she stops at the same vendor and buys a pair of fish.

"Taiyaki," she says giving it to me. "It's red bean; you'll like it."

I opt not to tell her it's my second. "So you're done for the day? What do you want to do now?"

"Um... Tokyo tower?" she suggests.

"Lead the way."

"You're sure there isn't something you want to see?" she asks.

"I'm looking at it," I tell her, kissing her nose.

She smiles and takes my hand, leading me away.


	6. Week 7: Tarot

picprompt. blogspot. com/

Kimmydon's Choice: both

Title: Tarot

There was something odd about the way she fanned the cards out on the table. It was just a normal table, the striped cloth was a bit weird, and the circle had an empty glass in the middle. I'd drained the last of my Coke, but Miss Terry - what kind of hoaky name was that? - was very careful not to touch it as she spread the standard Bicycle brand playing cards around it. I snagged one of the red velvet cake squares from beside her and she smiled at me, her thick eyeliner making her eyes even thinner.

"Now," she said in a terrible Romanian accent. "Choose where your life begins and ends." She gestured to the circle.

I snorted, my grandmother was Romanian, not Romani, not a gypsy, but still. I pursed my lips and picked a card from the right side of the table, sliding it out a little, but not completely from the circle.

"Excellent." She left that card in place and began making her way counter-clockwise around the circle. I stopped her, asking why. "The sun travels from east to west, so passes our lives."

Well, that made sense. I was so glad I hadn't paid money for this. My friend, Jody, had said that this was the best tarot reader around and I wouldn't be disappointed. She was so sure, she had forked out the fifty bucks this lady charged. Absolutely ludicrous.

I nibbled my cake while she counted off three cards, flipping the fourth. It was the three of diamonds. _Ooooh, spooky._

"You were a happy, beautiful child. A happy home, loving parents, little care in the world." Yeah, that wasn't unusual. She counted three, flipping four, the eight of spades. "But you lost a pet. I believe it was a dog. One you had had for several years."

Okay, that was a little creepy. I had once had a dog named Jake, and he'd been hit by car when I was seven. He'd been mine since I got him, when I was two. We had taken him to a vet, but he was too badly injured. I'd held his paw as Dr. Brown gave him his last shot.

"Yeah," is all I murmur, unable to comprehend her accuracy.

She nodded and counted off another three cards, flipping the fourth. The ace of hearts is turned up and the reader lifted her face to mine. I resisted rolling my blue eyes. This is part of the show, I'm certain. "You skipped your first day of school."

_What? _How in the hell did she know that from a card? She was absolutely right. The kids on the bus had teased me so badly that as soon as I got off, I ran. I came back in time for the bus home. Mom was so mad. She drove me to school the next day and I met Jody, who had been my friend ever since. What did that have to do with the ace of hearts?

Miss Terry pursed her too red lips; it emphasized the lines on her face. I licked mine and took another bite of the cake, refusing to answer her. After a few seconds she counted off another three cards. This time she flipped the six of spades.

"Defense. You are defensive. You find yourself alone because you resist letting others in." I nodded in reply. That was general enough, and true enough in my case. Jody often told me I'd have a boyfriend by now if I'd just let one of them talk to me for more than two sentences, but I was afraid of getting hurt.

Miss Terry smiled at me again. "Let's hope the future brings those defenses down." We were a quarter of the way around the circle. "But first we have a little more of the past to cover." She continued her ritual, flipping the Jack of clubs. "A stranger enters your life. Usually, for a girl your age, this would be a step-father or mother."

"My parents..." I began, but she interrupted me.

"Are still happily married - an achievement, to be sure. I said, 'usually'. This stranger is... a new neighbour? You don't move often, and so have known your neighbours quite well. This man moving in next door was remarkable for some reason."

I remembered the day Ernest moved in next door - the day I got a curfew. I was only ten, so I wasn't likely to be out late anyhow, but mom and dad got extra protective then. It was only a few years ago that I learned he had molested his niece. He had served jail time, and was watched for a repeat offense. He had never looked at me twice, but it was the first neighbour that we didn't have over regularly for a barbeque or tea. Remarkable all right.

"Yes," I answered her. "He is different from my other neighbours."

Miss Terry nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. I gobbled the last of the cake while she did. It was very good, moist and sweet. The icing was almost crisp, it had hardened so well, like candy.

By the time I had swallowed, the next card was turned up, the seven of hearts. "New family," she murmured. "I don't think it was a new sibling though. A new pet, perhaps?" She smiled, knowingly.

I chuckled quietly. She was right. I thought idly about Mom and Dad having another kid. It was kind of late in life for them, but not beyond the realm of possibility. Certainly, at the time we got Johnny, it was well within the realm. Johnny had been only a few months when we brought him home, a golden retriever; Dad liked big dogs. And he was five now, so my baby brother or sister could have been five...

"Am I wrong?" she asked, interrupting my daydream.

"No," I answered quickly. "Just imagining if I had gotten a new sibling." I smiled at her.

"Very different, no?" she asked with a small chuckle of her own.

"Very different."

"There may be one yet, we still have the future to see." She gestured to the second half of the circle and counted and flipped. The ten of diamonds. "Honors. For school, I believe. You get good marks, do you not?"

I nodded again. "High Bs. Never gotten many As though."

"That may change soon." She counted and flipped. The five of clubs. "A change of location. You will move in the next three years." Again, that was a safe bet; that was when I graduated. So far, so meh.

The Queen of diamonds came up. Miss Terry sat back a little in her chair. "That is an ill-fated card. She brings disaster of some sort." The reader put her hands over her eyes and whispered. Mojo, I thought, fighting a snicker. She pulled her hands down enough to quirk an eyebrow at me. "Have I given you reason to question me?"

I thought about that. No, she hadn't. "I'm sorry, please excuse me." I sat back in my chair and fiddled with my hat, which was on the corner of the table.

Miss Terry covered her eyes again, but not for long. "Physical. You will be in an accident and receive an injury." She was suddenly cold. She hadn't been up until now. I wondered if it was because I'd been rude.

She bent to the cards again and flipped the nine of clubs. She shook her head. "And worse, your family will be torn by it. Many will be hurt as a result of that incident." She didn't slow now, flipping the three of clubs. "Pain. A slow recovery perhaps." She didn't elaborate, continuing. She counted to the last card before the one I had chosen. The king of hearts. She sighed, frowning.  
"He brings relief. In this case, an actual person. He will help you emerge from the pain, from the consequences. He will be kind and beautiful. He will be everything you can't imagine now, and everything you will need then."

I tried to imagine this beautiful man, even though she had told me I couldn't. Should I be worried that the last card came so quickly after pain and loss? Did that signifiy something? My death?

Miss Terry squared the three cards carefully before touching the last, the first. "This is how your life began and how it will end." She turned the card over. The queen of clubs. She smiled slightly. "This card is notoriously difficult to interpret. After, all it is both birth and death. When that card is something like the Jack of clubs," she pointed to that card in the circle, "it is easy to say you enter the world as a stranger, but can you leave as one? The Queen of clubs, however... You came with friends and you leave with friends. It is the simplest and easiest of prime cards to decipher. You have many watching over you, Rebekkah. Do not be afraid to embrace them, especially those you do not know are watching. They are strange to you, but they are not strangers. They know you better than you think. Embrace them, you will need them."

I sat silently, looking at the revealed cards. "It's like a clock," I murmured, noticing how the twelve laid out nearly on the hours, with the starting card offset.

"It is," Miss Terry said with a smile. "The past," she swept her arm over half, "the future. Learn from the past, take it into the future."

I looked over the past again, my happy childhood, Jake, Jody, Ernest, Johnny. I had too few friends, I needed to try to make more. I didn't look at the future. She had done a good job of scaring me with that. I had to ask though.

"The pain, the relief, will I die?"

Miss Terry closed her eyes looking down. "I only know what I see. I see a relief that does take you from this world. I'm sorry, child. I hope I am wrong."

"I do too." I put my hat on my head and got out of the chair. "Thank you very much."

"Thank you." She didn't rise to see me out, still gazing at the cards in front of her. I think she was trying to see a way out of the fate she had witnessed for me.

I slipped past the beaded curtain to the doorway I had left my shoes in. The sunlight surprised me. It felt like it should be the dead of night. Somehow that calmed me; it was hard to be scared on a sunny day. It was all a bunch of superstition, I reminded myself.

Kicking my chucks on, I stepped out of the doorway, squinting slightly as I started my trek home. Jody had offered to wait for me, but that seemed silly. A fifty dollar reading should take more than a few minutes, why should she waste the day? So I walked home alone. I couldn't stop thinking about what Miss Terry had said, what she had seen and shown. I stepped off the curb and heard squealing tires.

* * *

Thanks to Miss Beckie Louise and CullenObsession for their beta help. 


	7. Week 8: Crankypants

Kimmydon's Choice: Both

Title: Crankypants

Delia was my best friend. She'd moved next door when I was five and I saw her playing in her back yard. Except she wasn't playing, she was moping. She was pulling up dandlions, popping their heads off, and sighing.  
"Hey, crankypants!" I called through the fence, putting my face to the slats.  
"Who is there?" she asked mournfully.  
"The booooogie man!" I stuck my hands through the opening and wiggled my fingers.  
Delia laughed and sniffled. "You're a pretty little boogie man."  
"You're a big crankypants," I told her in reply.  
"I am not!" she argued.  
"Good! I don't play with no cranky-pantses."  
"Well I don't play with boogie men!"  
"Fine!"  
"Fine!"  
"What if I'm not a boogie man?" I asked a minute later. "What if I'm a Sylvia?"  
"Then can I be a Delia?" she asked.  
"Yep, and then we can play together." I stuck my hand through the fence again and she shook it. "I'm just going to tell my Mom I'm going to your yard."  
"Okay!"  
And that was that. Delia and I were best friends. I remember one birthday party - my birthday is on Independence Day. I was supposed to be all proud and patriotic, but it really sucked because all my friends were gone on the first long weekend of the summer. My sixth birthday, almost a year after I met her, Delia was the only person there. We made the best of it. We wore giant glasses and boas and shot silly string until our Moms yelled at us. My Mom seemed to think it was going to harm her precious pumpkins. Whatever, they were barely blooming yet. I kept my can and made sure to get another good shot in later. Delia didn't see it coming. Then we watched our Dad's set off fireworks. My Dad looked really funny without eyebrows.  
That year I started going to school with Delia. We weren't in the same class, but met at recess and made sure our friends knew each other. We went to all the same parties, raved over the same boy bands. We stayed close through Junior High and High School. I told her about my first kiss and she told me about the boy that pulled down her pants at the water fountain.  
Nothing could keep Delia and I apart. Her parents moved across town when we were fourteen, but we still talked and visited every other day. When her grandma died, I was at the funeral. When my Dad hurt his back and was in the hospital for a week, she came to see him with me. I told her that Billy was no good for her, and she convinced me that I could do better than Tyler. We watched out for each other and took care of one another.  
Why didn't I watch out for her a little more?  
We had been out with another friend, together of course, on his boat, a graduation party. The storm literally came out of no where. I'd heard of that, but I'd never seen it. There was blue sky, one cloud, and then we were being rocked in huge waves. We had all worn our life-jackets. That didn't stop Delia from cracking her head on the railing when we went over.  
I held Delia in the water until someone pulled us out. I kept her head still, cradled against me. I couldn't tell if she was breathing. Apparently she wasn't. The doctors told me she never had a chance, her neck had broken with that first blow.  
"Sylvia?"  
I looked up at Teresa.  
"You know it wasn't your fault, right?"  
I put my head back on the rock in the lake. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. She's gone."  
"She wouldn't want this, Sylvia. She wouldn't want to see you moping like this."  
"Leave me alone."  
Teresa didn't leave immediately, but when it was obvious I wasn't coming out of the water, she walked on.  
I closed my eyes and wished the water would swallow me.  
"Hey! Crankypants!"  
"You aren't Delia. She's gone."  
"You're a really big Crankypants."  
I cried into the lake, my salty tears fouling the fresh water.  
"I don't play with no cranky-pantses. Can't you be Sylvia again? For me?"  
"I don't know, Delia. I don't know."  
"Try. Try to be Sylvia _and _Delia. For me?"  
I promised to try.


	8. Week 9: Wasted

Kimmydon's Week 9 Pictures available at picprompt. blogspot. com

Kimmydonn's Choice: both

Title: Wasted

* * *

I have spent too much time trying to be something I'm not. Trying to a writer, trying to make ideas interesting, where they are just inane. I have neglected my house, my family, my real work, the job that pays for this house, this writing desk.  
Why do I keep trying? Why do I keep writing? Why do I keep this place? I'm the only one in it. I have no one to share with and no desire to share anything more than my stupid thoughts with anyone else.  
I look at the netting around me and push the desk aside. I don't need this double bed, no one will ever sleep on the other side. I should be getting up, cleaning up the remnants of the lazy-man's supper I made for myself last night, but I just can't bring myself to care.  
I curl up on my side and close my eyes, willing the world to go away, willing my breath to stop in my lungs. Nothing has ever listened to word I've said before, no one has given a damn about my thoughts, why should they start now?  
I keep my eyes closed, no desire to move, to get up, to _do_ anything. Not even write, least of all write. No one wants what I've put on that page anyway.  
I roll over violently, rip the paper from the desk and continue rolling off the edge of the bed. I toss the pages out the window. Three weeks of wasted time.  
I don't dress. I don't brush my hair. I don't brush my teeth. I stomp out in my purple nightdress and kick on sandals at the door. I don't know where I'm going; I almost hope I crash.  
Without thinking, I start the engine of my little car and head for the highway. Direction is another thought I never have. I simply drive. I hear honks and yells and ignore them. I pass in non-passing lanes and push my engine further than before. If a cop rang sirens, I wonder if I'd notice.  
I can't see through the tears in my eyes. Wasted salt, salt of the earth. I want to salt the earth. I wanted to waste the world the way I've wasted myself.  
_Here_  
I don't know where the word comes from, how it makes it through the fog of self-loathing I'm wrapped in, but it does. I twist the wheel sharply right and slam my brakes. I hear squealing from my car and fading honks as the people swerve past me. I jump out of my car and into the road. Of course now, when I'd want them, there are no angry drivers.  
I walk blindly across the road, praying for someone to hit me. No one does. No one comes close. I sniffle, trying to breathe, and stumble into the grass. It scratches and pricks my knees, dry and spikey. Prairie grass, like the grass of home. How far did I drive? I must have had a full tank that is empty now.  
I huddle in a ball and beat my fists on the ground for a while, sobs ripping through my chest. I'm a waste of skin, a waste of mind, a waste of salt.  
When my tears refuse to continue, dried like the ground, no evidence remains of my water or my salt, I sit back and see a swing chained to the only tree in the barren landscape. I stumble forward and sit my ass down. I start pumping my legs.  
The pendulum swings. I HAVE to write something.

* * *

Oringal A/N was deleted when I replaced the file think I'd already posted it. Whoops! Needless to say, I was having a bad day when I wrote this. But I got wicked good news at the end of the day, swinging that penduluum right out the window. I won the Key to the Kingdom Contest to earn a place for my 10 000 word original fiction in The Prince by Jennifer McBay Barry. She's Sunkingff on FFn. Her first book, The Kingdom, is available through Amazon. Get it, Buy it, Read it.


	9. Week 10: Inside Out

Kimmydon's Week 10 Pictures: www. picprompt. bogspot. com

Kimmydonn's Choice: both

Title: Inside Out - A Haiku

* * *

Vines grow, flower, fruit.  
Part of me stays, the rest leaves.  
Today, I branch out.

* * *

Did I wuss out by writing a haiku? Maybe, you tell me. ;)


	10. Week 11: Imagine Following

picprompt. blogspot. com

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Imagine Following

Thanks to Miss Beckie Louise and Burntcore for helping me touch this one up.

* * *

I followed the signs, I obeyed the rules, that was why my life was so dull, so mundane. When I was supposed to stop, I stopped. When they asked me to slow down, I slowed down. But nothing could rein in the imagination that ran away with me.

Why was the limit 55? Why couldn't I turn from this lane? Well, actually the answer to those were obvious. What I really wanted to know was what was around the corner, where did the kids go after school? Would the detour take me somewhere new?

I obeyed the signs. Daddy had instructed me well. Momma was the rule-breaker. She was the one who learned hidden truths, loved a man who shouldn't be able to love her back,and bore a child that by all rights, should have killed her.

Did I mention, I love my Mom? Not that I don't love Dad. He's great! He knows everything I want to say before I say it. He answers my questions before I ask them. He's the perfect teacher and confident. But he doesn't break rules. The only time I know of him really trying was when he tried to kill himself because he thought Mom was dead. Even then, he _asked_ first. Can you believe that? He asked if he could kill himself. My Dad...

Anyway... This sign was new. This place was pretty new to me. We'd been in the big house near Forks as long as I could remember, staying close to Grandpa Charlie.

He's another one for the rules. He's a police officer, so he makes sure _everyone _follows them. Still, I catch a gleam in his eye and know Momma didn't get all her rule-breaking ways from Renee. I don't call her grandma only because I've never met her, and never will. Another rule. Too dangerous for Renee. _Sigh_. Well, I have Grandmother and Grandfather and Grandpa Charlie, so I suppose I can live with that.

The sign is a simple arrow. Not a traffic sign, it is painted on the road in chalk. I look around. Momma and Daddy don't like me wandering on my own. I spy Jacob in the trees though, a red-brown furry shadow. Okay, I'm not alone. I will follow the arrow.

It leads to another arrow, this one also not on a sign. It's a piece of posterboard. It wants me to make a left. I watch for traffic and skip along. It leads me to a park. I start scanning for another arrow, a sign, something. I find it at the end of the block. It's small, and it's floating in the air. How strange. I reach for it and a small slip of paper comes off the silk thread. I tug slightly and can finally follow it to where it is tied to an overhanging branch. The breeze made it seem to fly. I unroll the paper and find a tiny pillow mint inside, pink.

"Eat me," the paper reads.

I laugh, thinking about Alice in Wonderland. Will this make me big or small? Big I hope. I've had enough of being small. I pop the mint in my mouth and turn the paper over.

"Oak tree," the back reads.

I look around the park for the only oak in it. I don't see Jacob anymore, but I don't worry. At the bottom of the Oak is a tiny door. I look down at myself, hoping I've started to shrink. I haven't. My feet are still size six and my legs are still twenty seven inches long. I will _not_ fit through that door.

I lay at the foot of the tree with my face near the tiny window opening, peeping in. It's dark inside and I don't see anything. Is it a trick? Did someone just put a door here? Or is this really a rabbit hole, leading to Wonderland?

I decide to knock. That's polite; it's what Grandmother Esme would want me to do.

"It's unlocked," a voice answers. It is very quiet. I only hear it because my hearing is better than human. I put my finger tips to the knob, trying to grasp the tiny thing. I managed to turn the handle and open the door.

I see bark. Frowning, I rise, leaving the door open.

"Come in if you're coming! Otherwise, shut the door!" The voice is louder now, nearer.

"I don't fit," I answer.

"Didn't you eat it?" the voice asks.

"I did! But I'm not a normal person."

A tiny head peeps out the door. It appears to be a woman, four inches tall, with a long red braid down her back. "I'll say you're not. Look at you, shining in the light like a vampire. Come in, come in."

"But..." The woman turns, tossing something over her shoulder. The door grows to my size. Or I shrink. I'm not sure which. I think the door gets bigger, because she doesn't.

"What's your name, bloodsucker?" she asks cheerfully. She doesn't say it like Jacob; she says it like Daddy would say, "love." I step through the door into a room. But if this is a house, it has no roof. Still, there is light, furniture, walls. It looks like a house.

"Renesmee," I answer properly. "But I'm usually called..."

"Renesmee, lovely name. Now, drink this." She hands me a cup that is as small as the doorknob was and very hard to hold. "My name is Marikana. I have a shortened name, too, but I don't hold with that nonsense. Your Momma named you Renesmee for a reason, just like mine named me Marikana. Let's keep our full names, shall we?"

I nod in agreement. I tip the small cup over my tongue and feel a pinprick where the single drop of liquid lands. I give the cup back to Marikana. As she takes it, I notice it become heavier. I am shrinking! I stop at the same height as she is.

"Thank you!" I say, grinning.

"You are quite welcome, bloodsucker. Please, tell me how you came here." She motions to her table.

I sit opposite her and fold my hands in my lap. "I followed the signs."

She nods. "Of course you did. I knew that. How did you find the signs?"

"I was looking for them. They were in plain sight."

"Yes, they've been in plain sight for ten years, yet you are the first person to knock on my door." Just then there is another knock on a different door. "Will you excuse me? That will be Lantoka. He'll want you to call him Lan." Marikana rolls her blue eyes. They are striking, no pupils, just solid blue.

"Of course," I agree, watching her move to the rectangular, purple painted door. It was a stark contrast to the rounded wooden door I had come through. It had returned to normal size, I notice when I look at it now.

A man, the same size as Marikana, stands on the other side, dressed in brown pants and a green shirt. He has long black hair that hangs straight down his back. He has the same, odd, blue eyes with no pupils.

"Ack! Forgive me, Mari, I didn't know you had company. Wait... is that?"

"A bloodsucker," she says with a smile. "I was just asking her how she found us."

"I would like to hear that as well. I'm Lan." He extends his hand and I take it. His touch is warm, warmer than Jacob's.

"I'm Renesmee." Marikana smiles as I give my full name.

"A real pleasure to meet you, Ren-nes..." he stumbles.

"Nessie," I offer.

"Nessie! Lovely, I like that. So, you found the way?" he asks, taking a seat.

"Please, make yourself at home, Lantoka." Marikana puts her hands on her hips.

"Ack! I am so sorry, Mari. Forgive me. Do you mind if I stay a little?"

She shakes her head, her braid swinging. "No. Would you like a bun?" She pulls a basket from the counter top and sets it in the middle of the table. "Help yourself, Renesmee."

"No, thank you." I've never enjoyed cooked food.

"You found the signs," Marikana repeats.

"Well, yes. On the road, and then in the window, and then the note." I still held the slip which had changed size with me.

"I see. And why did you follow an arrow on the road?"

"Well..." I couldn't answer that. I didn't really know why. "I always follow the signs."

"Always?" Lan asks.

"Nearly," I nod as I speak.

"Why?" Marikana asks.

That's a good question. "Because my father taught me to?"

"Hmmm and he taught you to look for signs that aren't signs?"

I giggle. "No. No one taught me that. I just looked for them."

"She can't stay, Mari. You must see that."

"But she found them, Lantoka; she has the right mind. She follows even when she doesn't. We haven't had anyone come in so long."

"She is a bloodsucker. She wouldn't survive here. Our food won't nourish her."

They talk as though I'm not here. "Excuse me. I can digest human food; I just don't like it." I pick up one of the buns to show them.

"She's not a full bloodsucker, see." Marikana tells Lan, trying to convince him.

"No doubt part of the reason she's here. Obviously her parents don't follow rules either." He shakes his head.

I cough on the bun. It doesn't taste right. Lan shakes his head sadly. "Thank you so much for coming to visit us, Nessie. Please come back, any time you wish." He goes to Marikana's cupboard and pulls out two cups, refilling the one I had drank from previously. "You don't mind, do you, Mari?"

She sighs. "No, I suppose not. It was a pleasure to meet you, Renesmee." She took one of the cups as Lan hands me the third. They both raise their mugs and drink. I follow their example.

Even worse than the buns, this liquid does not sit right. Everything blurs and loses colour.

I blink, adjusting to the dim light. There is colour now. The dominant one being russet brown. Jacob. "What happened?"

He chuckles. "You fell asleep under a tree. Are you okay, sweetie?"

I rub my head. "I think so. I fell asleep?" That didn't sound right. I couldn't remember what had happened after I followed the arrow though. "Under a tree?"

"Yeah. I lost you for a moment, then I found you lying under an oak tree in a park in the middle of town. I didn't want to wake you, so I carried you home."

"How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugs. "Not long. Maybe an hour?"

"An oak tree?" I look at my open hand, the paper still there. I smile and close it again, remembering at last. I will visit Marikana and Lan again one day.


	11. Week 12: Waiting

Kimmydon's Week 12 Pictures

Posting Date: July, 28, 2010

picture at: picprompt. blogspot. com

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Waiting

* * *

The people pass me, heading... somewhere. I don't care. They don't notice me. I am just a girl on a bench, moping. I look at the reflective surface of the building, tracing the dark streaks tears had made on my face. I need to stop this. It isn't going to get better this way. This was temporary. What is my problem?

My mind drifts back to the night before, the morning he said goodbye.

"I'm going to give you something to hold for the next two weeks," he declared. He kissed me, unfastening my pants. I put my hands around him, pushing up his T-shirt and feeling the smooth skin of his back, the planes of his shoulder blades.

My pants pooled at my ankles and I lost my balance, falling on the bed. We both laughed. It was so like me to stumble, even into bed. He slipped off my socks and stroked my feet, still smiling.

I continued to chuckle until he put a kiss to the arch of my left foot. Then he started kissing his way up. I closed my eyes and clutched the sheets beside me. His stubble made tracing the movements easy. It tickled and stung and burned, but in all the best ways. When he reached my thigh, he turned his head, rubbing his smoother cheekbone along it. I felt his lashes as his eyes closed and heard a soft moan from him, barely audible.

"God, I'm going to miss you," he whispered.

I sat up quickly, pulling him up by his shoulders. I crossed my legs on his hips and hugged him tight. I could smell his toothpaste, his last cigarette. "I'm going to miss you, too. Very very much. Come back to me."

"I will." He put a light kiss on my temple, then another under my ear, and a last on the corner of my mouth. He slipped my shirt off now, leaving me naked across from him. He kissed his way slowly to my breast, his face intent, his eyes narrowed. I could tell he was trying to memorize every part of this moment. So was I. I would cling to it in the days to come.

Our lovemaking was slow and sometimes awkward. I got a cramp in my foot; he squished my arm under him. We always adjusted quickly and never let it cool our ardour. We were used to each other's quirks, weaknesses, strengths.

We played. He blew raspberries on my belly making me laugh and I tickled his feet with my toes.

Finally, exhausted, he spooned up behind me and breathed my hair in. I covered the hand on the bottom half of my breast and closed my eyes, relishing the warmth, the care, the love that was spread between us.

The sun was just peeking through the window when he woke me with a kiss. He wore only his jeans, the worn ones with a hole in the pocket. I kept warning him that I was going to use them for rags. He hid them until the time came.

"I have to go. They'll be here to pick me up any minute. But I had to say goodbye." He leaned over me and puts his lips to mine. I sat up on my elbows, wanting to pull him back into bed, but knowing he waited so long, just so I couldn't.

"Two weeks," he murmured pulling away. "I'll get that rig up and be back before you know it."

I hate when work calls him away. I hate sitting here, being a downer. I have been all day. The girls at work don't even ask anymore; they know the routine. A pair of kids walk by, probably high school. They chuckle together and I catch snips of their banter, making me snort. I look up and see my smile in the building. I remember being a kid, when we both worked hard because we had nothing, and he never left town. Now the work is simpler, the money easier, but he is far away.

I turn my back on myself facing the bench. I step onto the small ledge and lean out, hanging onto the rail. I look down at the ground. I pretend this is the edge of the cliff and he's going to catch me when I fall.

My phone rings and I slip off my perch, nearly falling. I scramble for my phone. A new text message: _Just got in. Miss U already._

I type my reply: _13 days. 3 you._

_Sleep, dream of me. I'll be thinking of u._

I head home, trying not to think of the empty bed that waits for me. On our kitchen table is a post-it I don't remember noticing this morning. "Bathroom," it reads. Weird. I go into the bathroom and notice another post-it on the top door of the vanity. It holds his shaving supplies, so I never go in there. "Open me."

There is a velvet box. What the hell? He got me jewelery and isn't here to give it to me? Why not wait till he gets back? I pull it down and open it. Another piece of paper is wedged in the place of the ring. I pull it out smirking a little.

_I know you hate having stuff sprung on you. So think about it. I'll do this right when I get home. Two weeks to think about the rest of our lives. I know how I want to spend them. Do you? I love you so much. _

I pull out my phone and send a longer message: _You are silly. I know exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life. Now get back here and share it with me!_

It's a few minutes before I get his reply. It's not a message but a photo. It's the ring, on his pinkie. The message is: _I'll take it off for work, promise. :-)_

"Goofball," I murmur aloud. It's a very pretty ring. Not too ornate, just my style. I type again: _I'd hope not, what would the guys say?_

_What they're saying now, to get home to my girl._

I didn't know how to answer that. He didn't let me: _12 days 22 hours._

I smile, curling up in our bed and snapping a quick picture of me hugging his pillow.

_As soon as I can._

_I know._

* * *

A/N I've been spending the past 10 days away from the love of my life (who I have already married ;) so this sprung to mind.

Thanks to Miss Beckie Louise and Burntcore for proofing my weekly prompts. I think I forgot to thank them last week, so double kisses to both of you. Mwah.


	12. Week 13: Blue Suede Shoes

Kimmydon's Week 13 Pictures

Posting Date: August 4, 2010

picture at: picprompt. blogspot. com

Picture Choice: 2

Title: Blue Suede Shoes (100 Word Drabble)

* * *

How could I not buy them? They were blue suede shoes! I was so pumped, by four inches to be exact. I really should have resisted. My feet were pressed to their limit; my balance was being tested. But I am the biggest Elvis fan; I couldn't _not_ buy them. My palms were scraped from where I had hit the cement, my face red with embarrassment. I heard chuckles all around me. Still, I stumbled on, knee torn out of my jeans, hair in my face, but happy. _You can do anything, but lay off of my blue suede shoes..._


	13. Week 14: Wait's End

Pictures available at picprompt. blogspot. com

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Wait's End

My phone rang with a new message just as I was snapping a photo. I didn't move, not wanting to disturb the butterfly that would be featured in my article on Butterfly Gardens. The blooms this spring were fantastic, and I had visited several of my favorite gardeners to get the right picture.  
After three closes of the camera's shutter, the butterfly lit from the honeysuckle, flapping its yellow and black wings. I lifted my camera and laughed as I snapped a photo of Mrs. Larson taking a photo of me.  
"You'll have to include this one for your by-line," Mrs. Larson teased, turning her camera to show me the display.  
"I will! Email it to me?" I asked. Mrs. Mary Larson was the most technologically advanced seventy year-old I had ever met. Of course none of that newfangled nonsense was used in her garden. Just old fashioned coffee grounds and egg shells, thank you very much.  
I pulled out my phone, checking the message.  
_5 days (heart icon)  
_My grin tipped off Mrs. Larson. "What does your boy say?"  
"He wants to marry me," I said with a smile.  
"Congratulations!" Mrs. Larson hugged me. "Where's your ring?" Mrs. Larson asked tersely, grabbing my hand.  
I laughed and pulled up the picture on my phone. "He has it with him. He's coming home in five days," I said with a sigh.  
"Lovely. Well, hopefully he get's home sooner."  
"Thanks again for letting me visit." I headed for the gate just as my phone rang with another message.  
_Weather sucks. I'm wet through my skin. And not in the good way.  
_I snorted.  
_Gorgeous here. Don't know what your problem is._  
_Haha. I'd be in a better mood if it wasn't slowing us down.  
You'll be late?  
No. I'm coming in 5 days. Promise.  
_

* * *

Three days later the weather matched my mood. It was overcast and raining. I walked downtown, alone, stopping in at various garden and magazine shops to make sure they were carrying _The Quintessential Gardener_. I was also seaching for my next topic. I held my black umbrella tightly, keeping the rain off my sweaterdress. I hadn't worn a coat; it was warm, just wet.

My umbrella was suddenly ripped from my grip. It wasn't windy, what was happening?  
I turned and nearly fainted.  
"Wesley?"  
He held my umbrella high, off to the side.  
"Took long enough to find you. For someone who doesn't like surprises, you sure don't keep a normal schedule," he complained, a grin plastered on his face.  
I clung to him, my excitement overwhelming me. "Oh my God! I think I might love surprises like these!" He had obviously been in town for a little while. He was dressed in one of his three suits. He had _not_ just come in from the field.  
"How about ones like these?" He dropped to one knee, pulling the ring from his pocket. "I know I said I'd give you two weeks, but-"  
"Yes. Of course I'll marry you." I put my hand in his and watched him slide the ring on. It was perfect. One raised stone amid a cluster, small, but pretty. "I love it," I told him, bending to kiss him. "But did you have to bring the rain with you?" I complained, looking up at the sky.  
"Hey, be grateful, that rain closed down work early." He smirked. "Which is really good, because I ended up being asked for an interview today."  
I had been admiring my new bauble as he stood. Now I looked up to him. "Interview?"  
"Yes. I'm joining a construction crew in town. Little less money, but no trips. How does that sound?"  
"Perfect." I murmured. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

* * *

A/N Woot! I got to do a continuation. Awesome! :D See week 12: Waiting for the first proposal.


	14. Week 15: Outta My Tree

Kimmydon's Week 15 Pictures can be found at picprompt. blogspot. com

Posting Date: August, 18, 2010

Picture Choice: both

Title: Outta My Tree

* * *

The night had started so well.

Drinks with my friends, some laughs at the saps singing. A few drinks later, we were the saps singing. Karaoke should not be legal. Possibly not gin either. At any rate, Bonny Raitt, and another G&T later, I was thinking, _These are my girls. They've got my back. I can count on them.__  
__  
_Right?

Wrong.

"Hey, Beth, isn't that Peter's house?" Jamie asked, pointing.

"Huh? Uh, yeah, I think so. I've never been, but he lives around here."

"There's a light on upstairs," Mary pointed out.

"Yeah, so?" I asked.

"So, what if he's home?" Jamie asked, giggling.

I hiccuped. "So what if he is? I'm not going to knock on his door at-" I tried to read my watch, it was blurry, but I thought it said one. "One in the morning. I don't know him that well."

"But you want to," Mary sang, hugging onto me. "Go on, I dare you!" She shoved me at the door.

"What are we, twelve? You're going to _dare_ me to ring his door bell? Should I run away after too?"

They both snorted before erupting in laughter. "No, silly, you jump him."

Well, that made more sense, but wasn't any more likely.

"I'm not even sure it's his house," I complained.

"So check." Jamie pointed to the tree on the lawn.

"You're kidding right? I can't climb a tree! I can't drive! That's why we're _walking._ Remember?"

"I'll do it!" Mary said with a hiccup of her own. She put her foot to one of the branches.

"Oh my God. Jamie, stop her. We can't let her climb a tree." I reached for Mary's leg but she was already putting another to a different branch, giggling like a maniac.

"I think I can see him!" she sang.

"Get down!" I yelled, pulling on her ankle.

"Wait! Shit!" she slid down from her perch landing on me.

"Ow," I complained rubbing my thigh where her heel had caught. "What?"

"It's him; he saw me. Shit, run!"

And we might as well have been twelve, running from the parental unit that just busted us. I peeped from around the corner and saw Peter sticking his messy blond mop of hair out the door.

My heart skipped. It was like something out of one of my fantasies. His hair was always so perfect, scultped almost. Yes, he went for a certain amount of bed-head, just been fucked, but it was still fake. I don't know how I could tell - product smell? - but every time I passed his office I _knew_ he had spent twenty minutes or more to get it looking that way.

Not this way. This was bed hair. If we hadn't woken him, we'd interrupted him. He had the cutest cowlick that I'd never seen before, poking up on the left side of his head, his right was matted to his scalp, like he'd fallen asleep on it.

The girls were still shushing and giggling, but I was silent, awestruck. "Beth? Are you breathing? Earth to Beth. Shit!" Mary slipped and sent the contents of her pink purse clattering over the pavement.

My eyes widened at the sudden sound on the quiet street. I had been pulled by them to look away, but my eyes returned to the door, afraid we'd been made.

We were in luck. The door was closed.

"Goddamn. You two are going to be the death of me, you know that, right?"

"Go on, Beth. He'll be going back to bed, maybe you'll get a good peep."

"Shut the fuck up." I walked away from them, bending my heel on a misplaced step.

"Oooh, aren't we miss high and mighty? Let's go, Mary. Leave her to her dreams." Jamie linked arms with Mary and turned down a sideroad that would also take them home.

I huffed, abandoned. I looked back at Peter's house. How did he afford such a big place? I mean, I knew he made more than me, but that much? I wondered what it looked like inside. That tree didn't look that hard to climb.

I had definitely had too much to drink. Damn Gin. Prohibition, probably not such a bad idea.  
I sat on the tree limb and could only see a stretch of hall, part of the stairs. How had Mary seen him in there? And yet I could see him, climbing the stairs, holding something, looked like tea. Why was the cup so bright?

As he neared the top I saw that it wasn't a cup, but a phone or blackberry or something with a screen that lit up, which is why I could see it so clearly.

I heard a buzz from my bag. Maybe the girls were checking on me.

_Get outta my tree. The door is unlocked.__  
__  
_Fuck. This night had started so well...

* * *

I slid down, landing in a heap on the grass. My balance was shot and these shoes weren't great for landing anyway, probably would have broken the heels. I tried to hold my head high and not sway too badly as I walked to the door. I opened it slowly, intimidated.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Upstairs," he called.

I kicked off my shoes and grabbed the rail, stopping once to look at the photos on the wall. They were hard to make out; he didn't have any lights on, just the one at the top. The moon and streetlights let me make out faces I recognized from his desk, family for certain. I stopped at the top were he stood, smirking. He had a robe tied on over his pyjama pants. His phone was turned so I could see the screen. It showed a picture of me, under his tree, with my ass in the air. Very nice.

"Well, that'll look great on an intra-office memo," I quipped, hoping he wasn't thinking of doing anything of the sort.

"Maybe. I think I'll keep this one for myself."

I shouldn't be flattered, but somehow I was. Something about the way his eyes looked at my picture as he turned the phone back to himself.

"So, why the invite?" I asked, crossing my arms. "You could have just told me to get out of your tree."

"Why were you in my tree?" he countered.

Shit.

I closed my eyes and thought, "there's no place like home." I even clicked my heels together three times.

Lips met mine.

My eyes flew open and I lost my balance. I was going down the stairs. My arms windmilled as I tried to grab something.

Peter's arm latched to my waist, and my arm caught his shoulder. I held on for dear life as my legs fell beneath me.

"Whoa, Beth. One too many?" he asked, smirking again.

"No, one too many got me in your tree. That was at least two, maybe three too many that had me falling for you."

He shook his head. "Not enough. You're still too witty."

I chuckled. "Can't handle my wit?" I asked.

"I can shut that smart mouth up, you know," he threatened, still holding me to him. His eyes were on my mouth and I felt something shift between us.

Oh, boy.

What was the correct response? I'm not going to be the next to polish your desk? You have some nerve? Mommy? I was seriously contemplating each of these when he took the decision out of my hands again.

His mouth was warm and slightly sticky. He _had _been woken earlier. I had kissed Peter before, but only once. Stupid Christmas party. Stupid Gary. He'd found us under the mistletoe and snagged Peter for another round of nog. So, this is what it would have been like if Gary had fallen in a sewer as I had wished so dearly then.

Was Peter even aware of my state-sized crush on him? I had always thought not. I certainly hadn't been aware of any interest from him until now.

He paused for breath, and I was grateful, taking the moment to find my feet again.

"I invited you in because I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"Intive me in?"

He rolled his eyes. "Kiss you."

"Oh." I looked at his lips now, licking my own. I thought I heard a sound from him, but it was low and hard to make out. "I... I did too. That's why the girls made the scene. Why Mary..."

He snickered. "Mary climbed my tree? I wish I'd gotten a picture of her ass in the air. Gary would have paid me for it."

I chuckled too. "I don't know if hers was on display. She landed on me, see?" I lifted my leg a little showing the darkening bruise and scratch on my thigh.

I know I heard something this time, and I dropped my foot at his groan.

"I should go," I said in a rush.

"Beth?" he called, stopping me after I'd made the bottom stair. I turned and looked up at him.

"What are you doing Friday night?"

I smiled, beaming. "What am I doing Friday night?" I asked.

"I'll let you know. Six?"

"Six." I agreed, showing myself out.

"And Beth?" I was actually outside at this point, but he stuck that beautiful bed head out the door. "Put some witch hazel on that bruise. It won't turn as dark."

I smiled again, softly this time. "I'll do that. Thank you." I leaned forward to kiss him again. Unable to resist I put a hand into his hair, playing with the whorl on the left side. He pulled away, cussing and trying to smooth it.

"No," I chuckled. "I like it that way." I kissed him once more. "Good night."

"I think it's technically morning."

"Let me shut that smart mouth-"

He did it for me, pulling me to him once more. His robe wasn't as tight anymore and my hands were pressed to his chest, my thumbs on his skin. They wrapped in the hem of the robe, clutching it and him.

"I should let you go," he murmured breathlessly. "You're... inebriated and..." he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"Yes, you should. Because I'd just tease and run anyway. I need at least another three or four to lose the panties."

He groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder.

Well, this was fun. Apparently the night would end well too. Imagine that.


	15. Week 16: Over The Top

Kimmydon's Week 16 Pictures

Posting Date: August, 25, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: 1

Title: Over the top

* * *

I shouldn't be up here. I really shouldn't be smoking. How many times had Mom told me? Hundreds, certainly. She knew it would be the death of one of us.

It was Sarah.

I remembered sitting with her, slipping out onto the roof when she jumped to it from the tree, sneaking in.

I'd idolized Sarah. She wasn't the typical big sister, responsible, providing an example. She was a rebel.

_"Pete. Dad is gonna kill you." She told me when she found me sitting on the shingles. I watched her bare toes grip the rough surface. She took off her shoes to be quieter and safer. "What are you doing?"_

_"You're going to have a smoke, right? I want one too."__  
__She rolled her eyes. "No, you don't; you almost puked the last time." Of course she already had her pack out and offered it to me. "I'm not Mom. If you wanna puke your guts out, just don't do it on me." She put one to her lips and lit it. Then she gave it to me, taking the unlit one from my fingers._

_"Thanks, Sarah." She took several long drags, sitting beside me._

_Finally she said, "You'll be cursing me in a minute. Go on." She motioned for me to take a puff. I did and coughed harshly._

_She chuckled, her stream of smoke interrupted slightly. "Don't sweat it, Pete. Not everyone smokes. Let's go in before it rains."_

_She rubbed her cherry out on the shingles, pocketing the remnant. I passed mine to her as well. She put it next to hers, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me into the house. _

I inhaled deeply on the cigarette I now held. I didn't cough anymore, but they still made me nauseous. More with memory than reaction to the contents of the cancer stick. It had killed her, jumping from that stupid tree to the roof. That was the real reason I'd sent Beth the message. I couldn't bear to lose anyone else that way.

_Broken body in the flower bed, limbs at odd angles. One shoe still on her foot._

She knew not to wear shoes. She knew the soles of her feet were the best traction. She must have been rushed that night. She had slipped, the forensic team determined. She had landed the jump, but fallen, cracking her head on the eave and breaking her neck. It could have just as easily been a broken arm or leg, but instead she had been paralyzed, face down in the muddy dirt.

Why had Mom and Dad let me know that? I rubbed the tears from my face. I'd been sixteen. Couldn't they have told me she died instantly. Why would they want me to know that she had tried to inhale mud until she had drowned in it, unable to move? I wished for the millionth time that I'd been waiting for her that night. That I could have run down, turned her head. But no, I'd played football with friends and passed out early.

I had meant to cut that tree down. Instead I sat out here in a robe and flannel pants, smoking, tempting the fates to finish me the way they had finished her.

"Sarah," I whispered, blowing the last of the smoke from my lungs. "Beth would have liked you." I crushed out the butt imagining Sarah among Beth, Mary and Jamie. She would have fit right in. If anything she would have been annoyed that Beth was too 'straight-laced' and gotten on better with Jamie.

I needed to let her go. Seven years was long enough. I'd already finished mourning Mom and Dad, but I couldn't let go of my big sister. I felt vulnerable without her. This house didn't help. It was filled with memories of them, and me with them, but I couldn't sell it. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else living here. And Mom and Dad had nearly paid it off. It wasn't any trouble to keep up the mortgage, especially after the life insurance came through.

I stood up carefully, looked at the scraggly tree, and sighed. Who would have thought that once again, the best thing in my life would come from it. It looked like it could barely support itself, let alone the women I loved most.

Beth couldn't know I thought that. I had to keep it close. No sense in scaring her off before our first date. No way I was telling her I'd had dreams of her standing in my mother's kitchen, brushing her hair in my bathroom, laying with me here under the stars. Too much, over the top for sure.

No, I'd play cool, as I had all along. Take her to a casual restaurant, maybe Mexican, and then out to see the improv troupe I enjoyed so much. The humor was right up her alley. She'd love it. I had almost lost it tonight, kept her here. I'd do better next time. I'd have the week in the office to settle back, establish the distance I needed. And I'd walk her to her place, not here. That was the real problem. I couldn't have her here unless I could keep her.

One day, if I didn't screw this up.

* * *

A/N Yes this is Peter's POV following the events of Week 15. Expect to return to Beth next week. Squeee.


	16. Week 17: Childhood Days

Kimmydon's Week 17 Pictures

Posting Date: September 8, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: 1

Title: Childhood Days

* * *

Jamie was still up when I got home.

"Mary make it in her own door?" I asked.

She smirked and crossed her arms. She stood like that for a full minute, not answering me. She was asking, silently.

I groaned. "Yes, I climbed his tree."

"I knew it!" she crowed. She ran over to hug me while giggling. "So, what happened? Did you get a good peep?" She pulled me to the couch. I saw a game paused on her computer - some space thing.

"Heh, that's like me." I pointed at the bright vortex. "I'm like the moth getting pulled to the flame. I'm that little asteroid right there."

She huffed. "You are not. You might be attracted to bright, shiny things, but you are a lot smarter than a moth." She shut down the game without saving. "Now tell me."

"So, I climbed the stupid tree." I blushed as I said it. "And he sent a text telling me to get out of it."

Jamie laughed, tipping her head back. "Are you serious? So busted. Just like that time..."

I nodded remembering with her. The time we climbed the scaffolding. "I thought your dad was going to kill us."

"He probably would have if _your_ dad hadn't said he sent us up there for the toolbox."

"What were they thinking leaving that up while building Chris' fort anyway? I mean, as if the kids weren't going to climb it," I complained. "It was an invitation."

Jamie nodded. "The sunset sure was pretty."

"Yeah."

"Why don't our families do vacations together anymore?" she asked.

I laughed. "Because all the kids grew up? I think our parents went on a cruise together last year, but even Don is done high school." Donovan was Jamie's baby brother, Christopher the eldest. His fort was being built out at her parents' cabin on the lake. My parents had a cabin next door, which was how we met, spending many, many summers together.  
We had been inseparable. The only girls in each cabin, we had gravitated to one another. Our parents lived on opposite sides of the city, but we had two months together every year. It was an easy choice when we each needed a roommate to help cut the cost of renting.

Jamie shuddered. "I don't want to think about my parents as a couple. And stop dodging. You were gone longer than it takes to climb a tree and read a text message."

I met her green eyes and held my breath. "He invited me in."

"He what?" Jamie shrieked. "Oh my God, that's awesome, Beth! Why are you home?" Her demeanor changed from gleeful to sceptic in a split second.

I met her eyes flatly. "I wasn't going to sleep with him tonight, Jamie. You know me better than that."

"Yeah, but you could have spent another hour making out first." She slapped my arm playfully. "You got at least one kiss, I hope. You've practically named your vibrator."

"Stop," I said angrily. Then I smiled. "I got three, actually. Well, the first one didn't really count. I almost fell down the stairs. But the second and third..." My eyes went dreamy remembering the feel of his lips on mine, the tingle in my spine, the tingle lower, the twitch in his pants... I was going to need 'Speedy Petey' at this rate. No one was ever getting me to say _that_ name aloud.

"Yeah? Tell me more," she encouraged.

"Isn't he cute with his hair all messed up? He'd fallen asleep. Morning breath, not fantastic."

Jamie laughed and sank back into the cushions. "It's not every girl that gets to sample morning breath without regretting the night before."

I scowled, then brightened. "He's taking me out Friday."

She squealed and hugged me. "I'm so happy for you. Wait." Her voice and expression changed at the drop of a hat. "Why now?"

I frowned and then quirked an eyebrow. "What's wrong with now?"

"I mean, what changed? You've been crushing on Peter for over a year. He just finally noticed?"

Jamie didn't work with us. I had a tendancy to over analyse every encounter we had, so she probably thought I was more obvious than I had been. I bit my lip and averted my gaze.

"Beth?" she asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I... I never really told him I was interested."

She chuckled quietly. "You expected him to just... know?" she summarised correctly.

"Well, body language, eye contact. My eyes were definitely conveying interest."

"Beth," she moaned. "You did this in high school. How many times did you whine to me that Kenny or Leon or Mac wouldn't ask you out, and the reason was... duh dudadum... that you didn't say anything to them. Beth, this shouldn't come as a surprise to you, guys can be really oblivious. So, what changed?"

I didn't understand. "Nothing. I just... climbed his tree. Maybe that was showing interest?" I posited with a shrug. My black hair lifted and fell with my shoulders.

Jamie shook her head. "Maybe, but I doubt it. So you said yes, obviously."

I started thinking about where he might take me, what we might do, his kiss, his pants... Wow, my mind was destined for the gutter tonight. I was usually better than this. Something about standing that close, feeling...

"Beth! Wake up. You're falling asleep. Go to bed. I'll interrogate you more tomorrow."

"Thanks." I took her hand, letting her pull me to my feet. We both wobbled a little.

"We need to stop going out with Mary," Jamie said for probably the fortieth time.


	17. Week 18:What is in this?

Kimmydon Week 18

Posting Date: September 22, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: What is in this?

* * *

Monday came quickly. I held my breath as I stepped out of the elevator, preparing to face Peter for the first time since the weekend. I thought about his kiss, his arms, his hair... My heel caught in the gap of the doors and I went sprawling. My purse fell open, contents scattering across the floor.

Gary applauded, the ass.

Mary chuckled, but she scooped up my make-up and various cards. She passed me my phone last.

"Get outta my tree?" she asked.

"Shut up," I complained. Of course Jamie had told her.

My nervousness turned out to be completely unfounded. The end of the quarter had come and everyone was busy. Everyone except Gary. He decided that a lunch swap was a great team-building exercise. If he wasn't such a nice guy, or so big, someone would have shut him down when it came to ideas like this. Instead everyone reluctantly passed over their lunches, or cash if they were buying lunch. He was making the selections at the deli down the block, and we were all eating our desks.

At noon, Gary walked around pushing the mail cart and randomly handing over food.

"I am lactose intolerant," Laura told him, looking at her ham and cheese sandwich.

"Oh," he murmured. He rifled around and handed over someone's leftovers. "Here."

"What is in this?" she asked, lifting the lid.

"I don't know. Ask, Matt."

I shook my head. We were going to have allergic reactions all over the office.

"Here ya go, Beth." He gave me a brown paper bag. "And may I say, I plan on enjoying your quiche. Whoever said a man can't enjoy quiche was dead wrong."

I chuckled. "Well, I hope you like it. What did I get anyway?" I asked peeking inside.

"Dunno. Peter was reluctant to give it up though. I thought I might have to rip it out of his hands. It was so easy raiding the fridge," he said with another chuckle.

I laughed too. That was where I had put my quiche after picking it up from where the container had rolled under Laura's desk. It was probably pretty mangled.

It looked like a sandwich. Why was he so protective of it? I pulled it out and turned back to my monitor and keyboard, entering another set of numbers into the spreadsheet. I bit down without looking. Roast beef, with some awesome mustard. I'd have to ask where he got it. This wasn't such a bad idea after all.

I heard a crinkle from beside me and reached out instinctively to grab my lunch bag. I had had many of my lunches stolen in school. My hand closed on Peter's and he opened it right away.

"Um..." he said, running a hand through his sculpted hair. "Can I trade you? I have some sort of cake here. Looks like carrot."

"No trading for your own lunch!" Gary shouted. "Only someone else's!"

There were several chuckles at his outburst.

"Why? What is it?" I asked looking into the bag for what was left. It was a pair of cookies, oatmeal.

"They're... you know what, you can have them." He turned to go.

"No, wait. There are two. Do you mind if I keep one?" I pulled out one and handed it to him.

His smile was small and sheepish. "No, and I'll still give you the cake for it," he offered.

I shook my head. "This sandwich is plenty. What type of mustard do you buy?"

"French's dijon? Nothing special."

I nodded, taking another bite of the sandwich. "It's very good." I said once I had swallowed again.

"I should get back," he looked over his shoulder at his office.

"Yep, me too."

"We're still on for Friday though?" he checked.

"Absolutely!" I said a little too enthusiastically. I groaned and licked my lips.

He watched a little too closely, which made me feel better again. Then he backed away, which looked really odd and earned him some quirked eyebrows from the cube farm.

I chuckled and turned back to my screen, munching on his sandwich.

The cookie was delicious. A little cold, like it had been pulled out of the freezer that morning, but still moist somehow.

I cleaned off my desk and headed for the elevator. I noticed a few empty chairs. "Where'd they go?" I asked Mary, pointing.

She snorted. "They all got nauseous. Apparently a lunch swap helped trim the team rather than build it." She laughed aloud.

Gary glared at her and taped a page onto the wall. It read: If we didn't have stupid thoughts we wouldn't have any interesting thoughts at all.

Mary doubled up. "Why is it wrinkled?" she asked.

"Because I didn't appreciate it when Matt sent it to me." He pouted, but it soon turned into a grin. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was true. I mean, just think how much less fun you would have if you didn't have stupid ideas like climbing trees?"

"Oh my god," I breathed.

Mary laughed at my discomfort and Gary put an arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry Beth. It wasn't that stupid. But it was interesting."  
"I'm going to repay you," I said to Mary, who shook her head vigorously.

"I didn't tell him!"

"No, she also didn't tell me she climbed it first."

Mary scowled and together we muttered, "Peter."

Gary laughed and walked away.

That night my phone rang while I was sitting with Jamie. She was texting Brian, her latest project. She liked to make a guy jump a few hoops to make sure he was interested enough to be worth her time. Brian was looking good so far. He'd been willing to bring her a forgotten item. He'd navigated his way through her mental maze to determine her favorite beverage and brought it to her desk one morning. Now she was testing how quickly he responded to an impulse message. He was supposed to be at a hockey game tonight. His phone would probably be on, but would he take the time to answer?

Apparently he did because she was bouncing and grinning. Just as she opened her mouth to tell me his answer, my phone rang. I cocked my head apologetically and answered.

"Hello?"

"Did you like the cookie?" Peter asked.

I chuckled. "Yeah, really tasty. Was it frozen?"

"Yeah, that's why I didn't want to give them up. They're the last from Christmas. My grandma bakes me a batch every year."

"Oh!" I said surprised. "Well, they're really good. Does she live far away?"

"Yeah, she's in Florida. I fly down to visit her every Christmas."

"With the rest of your family?" I asked, realizing I knew nothing about his family.

"Um, yeah. I wanted to know, where would you like to eat Friday? I was thinking Mexican."

"Mexican would be great." I noticed Jamie still typing away on her phone. Not only willing to answer during a game, but carry on a conversation? Brian was racking up the points tonight.

"Great. I was planning to go this improv group I like to watch, so, dress casual, okay?" Peter continued.

"Casual. Got it. Should I meet you somewhere?"

"Um, sure. How about Casa Rosa. Six?"

"Okay, six. See you there. Well, see you tomorrow," I amended with a nervous giggle.

"Yes, tomorrow."

I hit the disconnect button and looked to Jamie, who was still grinning.

"Friday at six, Casa Rosa."

"Thursday at eight, Antonio's."

"Nice," I told her. Antonio's was much classier than Casa Rosa, but we were keeping it casual.

She held my eye for a moment before squealing and tackling me in a hug.


	18. Week 19: Saturday

Kimmydon Week 19

Posting Date: September 29, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Saturday

* * *

I walked Beth home, dreading leaving her at the door. I held her hand, as I had through the show, luxuriating in the contact. Her laugh was as good as I remembered, and we had both laughed a lot. I wanted to talk to her, to ask her something, but the quiet was so nice. Sharing her company was something new to me, and I didn't want to spoil it.

"This is me," she said, stopping in front of the building.

"Right." I pulled her hand up, rubbing the back of it. "Um..."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked.

I met her eyes, blinking in surprise. "N-nothing," I stuttered.

She looked at our joined hands and put her other hand around mine as well. "My parents have a cabin on the lake. I was thinking of going fishing. Do you fish?" she asked, looking up with those dark eyes, soulful and bottomless.

"I... I haven't," I admitted. "But I'd like to," I added quickly.

She smiled shyly and looked at our hands again. "I only have one pole, but I'm sure we can share."

I put my free hand to her cheek, my thumb rubbing the apple. She met my eyes again, this time seeming almost frightened.

"Beth?"

She blinked and swallowed. "You were going to kiss me again," she said slowly.

I blushed a little. "Would you rather I didn't?" I asked.

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "I..." She leaned forward on her toes and put her lips to mine. I smiled against her mouth as I bent down, allowing her to settle back on her heels.

We each pulled our hands free. Mine found her waist as I continued to caress her cheek. Hers clutched my shoulders, pulling me to her.

I wondered sometimes how I didn't just sweep her up every time I saw her, how I stayed in my office, how I got anything done. Some days I didn't. Gary knew, he'd bust my chops every time he caught me daydreaming in her direction, daydreaming of this.

Her lips were soft and warm and tasted faintly of cherry. Behind that, there was the sweetness of cilantro from dinner. My tongue, almost of its own accord, brushed her lip, wanting to taste more.  
She gasped and opened her mouth against mine, my breath pulled into her. I went with it, letting her pull my soul into her. I didn't want it without her anyway.

How had I fallen so hard for this girl? I had girlfriends before, a couple since I had met Beth, but none of them made me feel like this. They made me feel light, tingly, good. Beth made me feel grounded. At the same time she threw away everything that wasn't me. All the walls and safeguards I put up around myself were suddenly gone and there was only her.

She broke the kiss, her eyes fluttering. I hadn't blinked, I was sure. Her eyes found mine and I felt myself smile.

"Peter," she whispered. "I think I should go upstairs now."

I brushed her face with my hand again. "Before you do something reckless?" I teased her.

She nodded, face serious.

"Tomorrow?" I asked.

"Pick me up at seven," she said, smiling now.

My jaw dropped. "In the morning?" I verified.

She giggled and nodded. "Fish are easier to catch early in the morning. I'd ask you to pick me up at six, but you probably wouldn't want to."

I thought about it a moment. "I'll pick you up at six."

Her smile broadened and she kissed me again, pressing her body into mine. This time my eyes closed, opening when she chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"You look like you just went to a very happy place."

I closed my eyes again, smiling. "I did."

"Take me with you?" she asked, teasing.

Little did she know it was only happy because she was there. "Promise," I said instead.

I didn't sleep much that night. I couldn't get Beth out of my head. So I texted her at five.  
**  
Too early? -P**

I'm up. Just braiding my hair. -B

How can you braid and text? -P

Shut up and come get me. -B

Yes'm -P

I grinned as I hit send. She didn't often get bossy with me, I kinda liked it. Slipping the phone in my jeans pocket and pulling on a flannel shirt and ball cap I headed out the door. The hat felt odd on my head. I almost never wore one. My hair was probably my best feature, inherited from my mother. Hers curled even more than mine, 'Goldilocks', Dad would call her.

I tookI moment, holding the handle of my door, to remember losing them. Fucking Dad and the fucking car after the fucking booze. It wasn't Sarah's fault, but her memory might have been to blame. I was sure it was.

With another deep breath I closed the door behind me.

Beth was already downstairs when I arrived, one dark braid over each shoulder.

"This is how," she said, waggling one at me. "I'd just finished this one."

I grinned. "Ah. That makes sense. Did you want to drive?"

Her eyes went wide again. "Really?"

I smirked. "Why not? You know where the cabin is and I don't." I tossed her the keys, and she giggled a little running around me to hop into the driver's seat. I didn't often think about my car, but she was probably excited to get behind the wheel. Thanks to the insurance on my parents' van, which my drunken father had wrecked, and the sale of Mom's compact, I'd been able to purchase something completely impractical for myself. I loved my 'vette.

"You're sure?" she asked again, looking up at me from behind the wheel. She looked like she belonged there. She wasn't a short woman and had only moved the seat a notch toward the pedals.

"I'm positive." I leaned down to kiss her and she blushed as I did, grabbing the beak of my cap and tweaking it with a giggle.

"I don't think I've ever seen you wear one of those before."

I laughed too, backing up and circling the car. "You haven't, but like the shirt it seemed fitting." I picked up her pole and tiny tackle box, putting them behind the seats.

She laughed again. "Yes, I have seen you wear flannel, but only on Red Green day."

I remembered with her. Another one of Gary's infamous ideas. Let's all pretend to be characters on The Red Green Show while the crew is in renovating the office. I shuddered remembering the number of 'handyman' jokes that had flown that day.

"It's not the same without the suspenders." I was in the seat now, and she ran a hand down one side of my chest where my suspender would have been had I been wearing them. My breath caught and I felt myself stiffening at her touch.

She must have realized because her jaw dropped and she pulled her hand away. She put it on the gear shift instead. I covered her hand lightly with my own, leaning over to kiss her cheek before belting in.

She bounced a little as my belt clicked. She turned the key and closed her eyes at the purr of the engine. "I can't believe this."

I laughed again. "Believe it, because it's really happening."

She laughed again and backed out of the spot I'd parked in. "I'll be careful," she promised.

The lake was only twenty minutes away, fifteen with the utter lack of traffic this early in the morning. She pulled in beside one of ten or so cabins along the south edge of the lake. The wind chopped up light froth on the water. The smell of the trees as we opened the door replaced the stale, smoggy, city smell in my car.

Beth pulled out the box and rod while I rounded the car again, offering my hand.

She took it and led me down to a small wharf next to the boat launch. A number of small boats were tied to it. I felt the wind tug at my hat, but my hair kept it lodged in place. Beth stood for a moment watching the sun in the east. It was over the horizon, but just barely, still pink.

I moved slightly behind her, dropping her hand to put it around her waist, my other on her near hip. I put my cheek to hers to enjoy the view with her.

She suddenly shook her head a little. "We'll miss all the fish at this rate." She bent, setting the box down and opening it, pulling out a lure.

"I didn't come for fish," I whispered.

She must have heard me, because I saw her cheek twitch in a smile and turn a little pinker. It was true. I couldn't care less about whether or not anything nibbled on that string, as long as I spent the day with her.

But a few things did nibble the line: a really tiny trout that made her laugh, a slightly larger perch, and finally, something that she needed help pulling out of the water.

"What is this?" I asked, holding the squirming fish in my arms while she pulled out the hook. We weren't keeping it, so I only held it tight enough for her to work. As soon as her hands were free, I let it slip back into the water.

"It was a pike." She knelt to watch the shadow as the large fish swam away. She was so cute, hanging half off the dock.

She turned to look at me and laughed.

I frowned, not knowing what was funny.

"You're covered in scales!" she managed to squeak out while still giggling.

I looked down to see my flannel shirt covered in slime and fish. Vain as ever, I was quickly deflated by both my shabbier appearance and the laughter of the girl I loved. "Great," I muttered. I turned and headed toward the cabins, stalking. I started unbuttoning my shirt.

Beth didn't follow immediately, she called to me though. "Peter! Oh, no, Peter, I'm sorry! Please wait?"

I didn't, I was in a snit. I tossed my shirt on the ground and climbed a fence to land on her parents' cabin roof. It wasn't my roof, but it would do. I sat and wished I had my cigarettes.

"Peter?"

She was quiet. I hadn't heard her climbing the fence, but her head was over the eave and she tossed the rod before pulling herself up beside me. I lunged and caught her arms, helping her along.

She flushed a little and pushed her hair out of her face. Concern covered her face. "What's wrong?"

I hadn't taken my arms off her. I wasn't about to let her fall off this roof. It couldn't happen.

"Peter, I'm all right." Her hand covered one of mine and I realized just how hard I was holding her. Relaxing my hold very slightly, I shifted over.  
She smiled a little and laid back on the roof. I felt better when I knew she couldn't fall. I knelt beside her.

"Really," she asked again, "what's going on? Were you that mad that I laughed?"

"No." I snorted. "Just a little embarrassed."

"Then why...?"

"I sit out on my roof when I need to calm down," I tried to explain. "It's where I go to feel better."

"Your safe place," she said with a smile.

"No."

The roof was not safe. I came here because it wasn't safe, to stand on the edge between life and death and test myself, test fate. I came here to remember.

"Oh." Her face turned down. It was wrong. I leaned over her, wanting to make her feel better. Her eyes widened when she realized my intention. She smiled and closed her eyes just before my lips found hers.

I brushed her mouth with my own lightly, not wanting to scare her like the night before, or a week ago. She reached up and pulled off my cap, tossing it behind her. She put her hands in my hair and mussed it.

I quirked an eyebrow, not sure what she was doing. She pulled my hair a few more times, a few more different ways and finally nodded before pulling my face back down to hers.

She led the kiss this time, letting her tongue find my lips and part them. I bent closer to her, my arm sliding up her side, feeling her heat, her pulse.  
I pulled away, breathless, once again wondering how I was ever going to let her go.

"Peter?"

"Yes, Beth?"

"Can we do this every Saturday?"

"Fish?" I asked, confused.

"Kiss." She pulled me down again. "Oh, and let me drive your car," she added a few moments later when we stopped for breath again.

I laughed. "Yes."


	19. Week 20: Saturday, continued

Kimmydon Week 20

Posting Date: September 29, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Saturday, continued

* * *

I bent over and picked up the soft flannel.

"Here," Peter started, reaching for his discarded shirt. The day was nice enough, and now that the sun was up, he wouldn't need the layer. Disregarding him, I pulled it on. The scales from the fish sparkled in the sun and made me smile. It was still a little damp, but that didn't bother me either. The worst part had to be the smell. Fish, when living, don't smell much, but they decay fast, and the parts on this shirt were well on their way.

I turned to him, one eyebrow cocked, daring him to try to take the shirt from me.  
He stopped, hung his head for a moment, and then smiled sheepishly. "It looks good on you?" he asked, offering it rather than stating.

I chuckled. "It looked good on you too. I don't know why you got so upset."

He ran a hand through his now uncapped hair and then grimaced, looking at his hand. He started to turn, but I stopped him, grabbing his arm.

"No, Peter. Tell me."

I held his eyes with mine, trying to give him courage.

They seemed to moisten as they softened. Though no tears fell, I was sure they were there.

"I... I have a... I need to be..." he tried several times, and I slid my hand to his, holding it. I didn't try to guess what he was telling me; I waited.

"People expect me to be this," he said, gesturing first at himself and then at his car. "I worked to make myself fit, and it's disappointing when I don't."

"Fit what?" I asked, starting to understand, but wanting to hear more. I pulled lightly on his hand, moving to a bench near the lake.

He thought while we walked and sat down before he answered. "The successful young man."

I blinked. "And why do you need to fit that?" I mean, I tried to be successful. I held down a decent job, hadn't needed my parents help financially in years. I was independent, but that didn't mean I didn't get dirty once in a while, or go out without fixing my hair an make-up. I still didn't understand.

"So no one would look closer," he whispered.

My eyes widened in sudden understanding. He needed to fit to hide. Being covered in fish scales, having bed head instead of sex hair, drew attention to himself. But so did driving a Corvette. I shook my head.

"Wait. If you don't want people to look closer, why do you drive such a flashy car?"  
He smirked. "Because I like to go fast?" he joked, chuckling once. "Seriously? No one notices a car like that with a guy in a suit driving it. It fits."

I nodded, realizing he was right.

"Is it okay that I noticed?" I asked tentatively. I didn't want to see the suit, the car, the office, the house. Good God, how did he afford that house?

He chuckled again and lifted our joined hands to his lips. "It is more than okay. I've been waiting for you to notice for almost a year."

I smiled and blushed. "Confession time? I noticed about that long ago. Part of the reason I climbed your tree was to get a better look. Especially after seeing you... less than your best. That night, it was like I saw a different side of you. I liked the first side, this side," I clarified, touching his cheek and a lock of hair. "I knew there was more, and when I saw that..." I didn't know how else to finish, so I kissed him, turning on the bench.

My hand slid further into his hair as my stomach flopped like the fish we'd caught this morning. It was scary and sure at the same time. My heart was pounding as his tongue came to meet mine, and I knew I wanted nothing more than this man. I liked my job, I enjoyed the freedom of being unbound from my family, but I wanted to be tied to him. I wanted him to anchor me.

His hands were on my back, pulling me closer as I moved my knee between his legs, rubbing my chest on his, relishing the feel of our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

He found the bottom of both shirts and I felt his skin on mine, his thumbs on my belly, fingers on my back. I broke the kiss, turning my head slightly to gasp, leaning back a little on my ankles, trying to get a grip on myself and my libido.  
"Whoa," I murmured, and he chuckled nodding.

As I sat back, I found myself astride his thigh and my breath caught when I felt the damp fabric pressed back against me.

He was looking right in my eyes and couldn't have missed the expression that escaped when I was faced with my own arousal. His smile turned to smirk as he lifted his knee, tipping me forward into him.

I gasped, bracing with my hands on his chest. My thigh came into contact with with the proof of his arousal, making me moan quietly as I kissed him again, thinking to give up, give in, let him have his way with me.

He obviously planned to do just that, pulling me by the hips along his leg and then pushing me back, rubbing me against the denim ridge of my jeans' seam.

I broke the kiss again, my blood nearly boiling. Some quiet part of my brain managed to be heard through the rush of 'yes' saying 'wait.' It was right. He'd just shared something very important with me. I needed time to consider it, to consider us, as much as I wanted to feel Petey inside me. I took a deep breath, resting my forehead against his.

"Maybe we should calm this down a little?" I suggested, sliding one foot to the ground.

He rubbed his leg between mine as I set the other foot down, making my eyes close again.

When I opened them he was holding me. "Yeah. You're right. Damn, Beth." He breathed in my ear, making me tingle all down the one side.

"I know. I thought I was going to spontaneously combust," I admitted without intending to.

He hummed in my ear. "I'd like to see that."

My heart and stomach both fluttered, something even lower might have twitched too, and I know I felt Petey twitch where he was pressed against me.

"Calm?" I asked again, pleading.

Peter took a deep breath of his own. "Calm," he agreed, releasing his hold and taking my hand. "Where to, lovely lady?"

I lead him to a grassy hill where Jamie and I used to watch the clouds. "My best friend Jamie, her parents own the cabin next door. She's my roommate now, you might have seen her last week."

"I didn't. This is where you met?"

I nodded. "We'd spend every summer together." I was looking up at the clouds, remembering those summers when I lost my footing and fell backwards onto the slope. I started laughing at myself. Who trips on thin air? Beth Rodgers, that's who.

I looked up at Peter standing at my feet laughing at me too. "Are you alright?" he asked, squatting and offering me a hand.

I took it and yanked hard, falling onto my back again. He landed atop me, laughing still.

"What happened to calm?" he asked between chuckles, holding himself just off my chest.

"Shut up and look," I told him pushing him off me and to to the side. I pointed up at the fluffy white clouds above us. "This is what Jamie and I would do here. There's your car."

He chuckled. "Ah, I see. And that is... Gary getting lunch out of the fridge." I would have said it was chair, but I could totally picture, Gary's behind sticking out of the fridge door and laughed loudly.

"Yes! And there is Mary hanging out of your tree."

We continued our random silliness for several minutes, until we were both in stitches, I rolled over, looking at his profile. He turned his head to watch me watching him.

"What?" he asked.

"You're amazing." I kissed him again, wishing the day would never end.

"You are amazing," he replied, holding my face in his hands.


	20. Week 21: Quality Time

Kimmydon Week 21

Posting Date: October 6, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Quality Time

* * *

**Quality Time**

Gary accosted me as soon as I came in the door. "How was your weekend? I tried to call."

_Busybody_, I thought, wishing he would back off. "Good. I went fishing," I said with a grin.

"You don't fish," Gary said sceptically, narrowing his eyes. "Who fishes?" He tapped his chin trying to figure it out. "Hey, Beth!" he called over the cube walls.

"Would you shut up!" I hissed at him, grabbing his thick arm and not quite getting my fingers around. Gary had been a linebacker. He was pudgy now, but still big everywhere.

He didn't even seem to notice me. He waved to Beth who had rolled her chair out to look down the row of cubicles.

She wasn't alone of course. Half the desks in the row were now looking our way. I rolled my eyes, leaving Gary standing there and heading to my office.

I closed the door, sighing loudly, and put my head on my desk for a moment.

I had spent all of Sunday thinking about Saturday. I'd called Beth and talked to her on the phone for an hour. My own grandmother couldn't keep me on the phone that long. She'd gotten me talking about music, art, movies, all things I hadn't really thought about in years. They'd seemed so frivolous. Yet hearing her talk about the band she'd caught with Jamie, especially having her sing to me, well, it was easy to get interested. I remembered how much I had enjoyed going out with my friends and catching a game, hitting the pub after. I told her about the plays we'd done in high school. I hadn't thought about acting since... since Sarah.

I heard the door open and lifted my head quickly, picking up the first piece of paper on my desk. It was a memo for the blood drive. I groaned and tossed it, looking to see who had come in without knocking, Gary or Mary...

It was Mary. She looked at the paper floating across my desk.

"Oh, good. You got it then. We're doing this," she said emphatically. "I've already gotten most of the department signed up. You are the last hold out, really."

I grimaced. Needles were terrible things, almost as bad as the blood that came from them. "Yes, well, I'm unavailable today."

Mary narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine. You look healthy enough to me, so let's hear the excuse."

"Meeting," I said quickly.

"With?" she asked, calling my bluff.

I ground my teeth.

Beth's head appeared behind and over Mary's. Mary was a little thing, not many inches over five feet. Beth was significantly taller, her chin well over Mary's head.

"Leave him be, Mary. He isn't the only one who isn't comfortable with needles and blood. I'll give extra," she said with an impish grin.

Mary's hard expression slipped a little. "You know you can't do that."

"Yeah," Beth rolled her eyes. "Come on, I need you to check this sheet for me, make sure I've got it right." She snagged Mary's arm, spinning her out of my doorway.

"Thank you," I mouthed to her as she left. She smiled at me in return.

On a roll when lunch came, I didn't leave the office. There was a knock this time before the door opened. Beth closed it behind her.

"Hi," she said tentatively.

"Hello," I said, feeling my cheeks tighten with the broadness of my smile. I dropped it a little, thinking I was going to scare the poor girl off. "Are you joining me?" I asked hopefully, sweeping a hand to take in my lunch.

"No, I'm here to invite you to the blood drive again. You know the company is using this as an entry in the corporate challenge, right? The more blood we donate, the worse we make those fools over at Demo look." She got a wicked glint in her eye as she said the name of our rival.

"I never knew you were competitive. I thought we put all of that type in sales," I added with a smirk.

She laughed, tipping her head back slightly. "I never had any siblings to compete with, so I had to pack it all into the summers with Jamie and her brothers. It's been too long. I need someone to beat." Her lips pulled up in an almost frightening smile that showed all of her teeth. Did I look like that a moment ago? She looked like she was going to beat me. That thought hovered for a while: me bent over the bed while she raised and lowered her hand.

I shook myself, feeling the blood rushing to my face and groin. Her smile slipped a little, her eyes widening. She couldn't know what I'd been thinking; that wasn't possible. Regardless of what she knew or thought, an awkward silence filled the room. I took a bite of my leftover pasta. That seemed to do the trick; Beth visibly relaxed.

"I'm not going with the others," she said, smiling more naturally.

"Hmmm?" I asked, my mouth full of food.

"If you weren't comfortable, going with Gary and Mary and... everyone. I'm going after work today, by myself." She stepped closer and put a hand over mine. "Sometimes it's easier without the audience."

I looked up at her, meeting her warm eyes, her smile widening slightly as she looked down at our hands. I lifted mine, taking hers, to my lips, kissing her hand.

"I appreciate that. I will try. You were right. I'm not comfortable with needles - or doctors - at all," I admitted, sitting back with a sigh. I didn't want to talk about this at all, but definitely not here and now.

"I understand." She straightened and turned back for the door. "I'll be waiting after work. Just stop by my cube. I rode with Mary today, if you don't mind giving me a lift?" Her smile was coy, as though she was afraid I'd say no.

"Of course," I agreed. The thought of her in my car again was very appealing. I'd had to keep my hands to myself while she drove. I could trust myself a little further, after all it was my car. I could let my hand trace her thigh, brush her hair off her shoulder, touch her neck.

This was not helping the blood flow already throbbing in my pants and I closed my eyes to try to get myself back in check.

"Thank you," she said with a last smile, pulling the door shut.

I tapped my head on the desk again, my hand falling to my lap. With a quick look to the clock, I headed to the washroom, needing... something. I closed the door to the stall and locked it. My mind explored the images it had just conjured, starting with Beth in my car - her hair dark on the creamy white seats, her knees slightly spread. I imagined how pale the inside of her thigh would be, how soft to my touch. Her breasts were next, as I imagined rolling over her on the seat, pushing blouse and bra aside.

"Who's heavy breathing in here?" Gary asked cheerfully. Dammit. I let go of myself, knowing he'd never let me finish. My mind still raced with images of Beth spread out before me. I hadn't had time to indulge the images of her using her hand on me, especially not to beat me.

My teeth ground as I throbbed again, and I forgot Gary. My hand wrapped around myself, the other gripping my knee as I bent over the toilet, pumping for all I was worth while imagining Beth in a tight corset with her breasts free over the top, that predatory smile prominent as her hand connected with my cheeks.

With a grunting groan, I released the tension that had built in me, letting it spill into the toilet. I held my breath, listening. No sound. I zipped up and poked my head out of the stall.

"I knew it!" Gary crowed.

"Fuck off," I replied, washing my hands.

"It's Beth, right? Right? Come on, tell me. You guys are hooking up, right?"

I ground my teeth, drying my hands. "We have gone on a couple of dates," I said tersely.  
"Fishing is a date now?"

I scowled, but didn't answer.

"Wait, you don't fish. She asked you to go fishing? Then it totally counts!" Gary proceeded to lay out his dating logic as we walked back to the office. Apparently it was also a date if she asked me to a sporting event, because it was out of her milieu. I didn't argue. I didn't care if it was a date or not. Any time I spent with Beth was quality time, time well spent.

"Buddy, you're not going to lose that any time soon," Gary taunted, nudging my hip with his own. Sure enough, even idle thoughts had me stiffening again. "Let's hit the gym," he suggested, referring to the one in the basement of the building. "We've submitted the quarter; nothing's urgent, right? Burn off some steam."

It sounded like a great idea, and Gary would make sure I was sweating hard. We entered the elevator together. As I'd expected, Gary started me on the lifting equipment, working me around the room. As soon as I hit the elliptical though, he split. I ached nicely, but still felt edgy. After an hour of running, I admitted to myself that this wasn't what I needed. In the locker room shower, I took the time I hadn't at lunch. Under the warm water, I gave my imagination freedom.

_Beth shakes her head, tisking quietly. The riding crop bounces against her palm as she steps closer in her knee-high heeled boots. They are practically all she wears. Her breasts bounce slightly with each step, the dark nipples showing their movement. Her bright red lips pull back from her white teeth. The smell of leather fills my nose as the crop comes under my chin._

"Now, you will show me what you can do. If I am pleased, I won't have to use this." The tip of the crop flicks lightly on my buttocks as I kneel. I lean forward, away from it, into her.  
My nose touches her skin and it is impossible to miss her meaning. My hands reach around behind her.

Crying out, the crop snaps against my skin, my hands reach behind me. I hear metal clink and see cuffs on my hands now.

"I know how you use those. I want to see what else you can do." She grips my hair, pulling my head back and stepping forward, over me. The intention is to force me to pleasure her, but this is hardly an imposition. My tongue eagerly flicks out, happy to taste her. I watch the skin spread, listen to her breath catch, feel the moisture collecting, sliding out, as my tongue finds all her secret and sensitive places. Her smell is all that fills my nose now, my face buried in her as she grinds on me.

"Mmmm, yes. That's it. Right there." She gasps, and I work to hit the same spot again and again.  
"Yes, good boy," she manages to utter as she squeezes my tongue in her, washing it in her juices.

With a groan I sprayed the tiles and took a deep breath. Shit. I didn't know I was into BDSM. Did I even know anything about BDSM? I couldn't think of anything past a few pictures in the nudie mags Dad had left behind. I'd never really needed much more than my own imagination and the odd ambitious girlfriend. None had suggested anything like what I'd just imagined. One had wanted me to cuff her to the bed, but that was as far as it went. Where had this fantasy come from? Just that smile? Her turn of phrase?

Drying off slowly, taking time to restyle my hair, I didn't notice the time until I was on my way back to the elevator. It was past six.

"Oh fuck," I muttered as I whipped out my phone, looking up Beth's number. There was a missed message.

**i gave up on you -B**

I couldn't blame her. According to the time stamp, she had waited a good hour past the end of the work day for me. I held my head, feeling sick, as I wandered to the garage, descending one flight of stairs. The drive to the blood bank was short. I ran through the doors, hoping she was still here, that I wasn't so late as to have forced her to bus or walk home.

The receptionist looked up, but didn't stop me as I walked quickly past her desk toward the chairs where the donors lounged. Beth lay on one, reading one of the medical fliers that abounded in this place. A red tube trailed down her arm into a bulging sac. I felt myself pale.  
The nurse that had been at her side was suddenly at mine. "Got a fainter," she said loudly. That solved the pallor problem nicely. I was now flushed.

"Peter!" Beth called, sitting forward on her lounge.

"Lie back," the heavy-set nurse ordered. Her matronly glare had the intended effect, Beth flopped back. "And you," she said to me, "need to go through the screening." She pointed to where people were seated with clipboards. Hanging my head, I followed her directions.

The questionnaire seemed more formality that anything, but I felt my ears burn as the nurse interrogated me on my sex life and travel history. Finally she deemed that I was both healthy enough, and clean enough, to donate blood.

"Right or left?" she asked brusquely, leading me to the lounges.

"Um, right?" it had been too long since I'd done this, I'd forgotten what she was asking.

"Left," Beth said from beside me. I turned to her. "You want to be able to use your right," she said, smiling at me.

"Right," I agreed. "I mean, left," I told the nurse with a grin. She rolled her eyes, obviously hearing the same several times a day.

Following her, I climbed on the lounge she indicated. "Allergic to iodine?" she asked, pulling out a small plastic cylinder.

"No," I replied. There was a quiet snap and she started painting a yellow circle on the inside of my elbow. I was fine as she tightened a blood pressure cuff and found a vein. I was fine when she clamped the tube. I wasn't fine when the nurse pulled the needle from it's plastic casing.  
Turning away, I found easy distraction. Beth stood at my side, smiling at me. She reached out and took my hand, allowing me to see the bandage tied to hers. I squeezed her hand and winced, my stomach sinking at the feeling of the metal biting into my skin.

Her smile never wavered. She didn't look at me condescendingly - as I was used to in this position - or with pity, she just smiled, happy. I let go of her hand to pass my fingers through her hair. It was as silky as it appeared, satiny. My eyes searched her face, but still her expression didn't change.

I started to worry. Was I imaging what I wanted? Was the desire all mine? Had I imagined the heat in her kiss on Saturday?

"It's alright, Peter. I'm going to stay with you." She mistook my concern over her feelings as anxiety. I was actually doing better than the last time I had donated blood. "You still owe me a ride home," she reminded me with a smirk.

I let my arm fall, circling her waist, pulling her closer to me. "I'm looking forward to it," I said lustily, regretting the tone until I felt a shiver under my hand.

I knew I hadn't imagined it. Even now her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted. Her head tipped back very slightly. I longed to be free of the tube and needle so I could put my lips and nose to that neck, to run my tongue down the white column, over her collar bone...

A sudden beeping brought me out of my daydreaming. Beth shook herself at the same time. "That means you're done," she said with a smile, taking my hand again.

The nurse ordered me to hold a cotton ball to my arm, pulling the pieces of masking tape that kept the warm tube on my arm. I didn't take my eyes from Beth, who spent the time completing her tales of Jamie and Mary, the trouble they got into together. I barely noticed the odd sensation when the nurse pulled the needle out, I was so focused on Beth and her words. She didn't stop talking until another series of beeps interrupted. These were from a timer.

The nurse returned, taking the cotton from my fingers and telling me to bend my arm. She taped the swap down with another bandage.

"You are free to go. Just take it easy for the next hour. No heavy lifting with that arm for the rest of the day and be sure to drink lots of fluids. If you smoke, wait an hour."

Beth lead me away from the donation area to one filled with refreshments, encouraging me to drink. I grabbed a glass of juice thankfully, draining it quickly.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "It's so late, I could buy you dinner." I noticed it was now well past seven, heading to eight.

"That would be nice," she said with a smile. "Casa Rosa?" she suggested with a smile, gesturing to her casual outfit.

"How about the Burger Barn?" I said with a smile.

"Classy," she answered with a laugh. "And a great idea." She took my hand, turning for the door. "You're okay to drive?" she asked with worry on her face.

"Looking for an excuse to steal my car already?" I teased.

She giggled. "No, just that donating can wipe you out. I've had longer to recover." Once outside she looked up at the crescent moon with a smile.

Unable to resist, I kissed her cheek while it was turned up. I felt her eyelashes on my nose as she closed her eyes. My heart seemed to leap at the tiny flutter, jumping out of my chest. I pulled back suddenly.

"Peter?" she asked.

Hitting the button to unlock the doors, I reluctantly let go of her hand. "Yes?" I answered, opening her door for her.

"Thank you for coming," she said with a smile. "I know it wasn't easy for you. We all appreciate it." She kissed me then, a quick peck, before sitting down in the car.

Frozen for a second, I had the feeling that wasn't what she was going to say. I circled the car and took my place beside her.

"Beth?" My voice shook a little.

She turned to look at me, her eyes large. "Yes?"

"What did you really want to ask me?"

She sighed and sat back in her seat, pulling on her seatbelt. I mimicked her, skipping the sigh, then resting my hand on her knee.

"What happened at lunch?" she asked finally. "I mean, I know I get competitive sometimes, but I didn't expect that to bother you. Does it?" She looked at me with her brow furrowed.

I closed my eyes and pulled my lips together tight. How in the hell was I going to get out of this? "No, it doesn't bother me," I began, safe enough, and true.

"Then... what?"

I knew I wasn't going to get off that easily. "I... You have a very interesting... game face," I finished, finally finding a good expression.

"Oh." She thought about this while I started the car and backed out of the stall. "Is it good or bad?"

I switched gears and rolled onto the street before answering her. "I liked it."

She smiled, satisfied, and I sighed in relief. My hand moved from the stick shift to her knee. I had to lift it several times as I wound through streets, so I was able to touch different places, her hand, the outside of her thigh. At one red light, I did push her hair back to touch the back of her neck.

She shivered a little and looked at me. "Is this a date?" she asked.

My mind went over Gary's criteria for a date, but finally I came back to my own definitions. "It's quality time."

She smiled and leaned into my shoulder. "I like spending quality time with you." She reached one arm across herself to squeeze my leg before the light changed. She pulled it back and sat up as I grabbed the shift to get into second. _Stupid manual transmission,_ I thought.


	21. Week 22: Lunch Date

Kimmydon Week 22

Posting Date: October 20, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Lunch Date

* * *

**Lunch Date  
**

Mary looked at me crosswise through the morning commute.

"What?" I finally asked her.

"You're glowing," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Are you pregnant?"

"What? No! Mary!" I couldn't believe she would suggest it. I hadn't had sex in months. If my luck held, that wouldn't be true for much longer, but still.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a bunch." She looked me up and down. "Assuming you're wearing any."

Now she was just being Mary. I pursed my lips and tried to ignore it.

"Who is he?" she asked with a sigh.

"You mean you don't know?" I asked, arching a brow.

"I do. I want you to say it."

I huffed. Were we so obvious? "Does everyone know?"

"No, but I'm not just anyone." She rolled her blue eyes at me, shaking her blonde locks. "Come on, Beth. Out with it. What's going on with you two?"

"We're... seeing each other." What could I tell her? We weren't 'going steady' or any other inane thing like that. We'd gone for dinner twice and he'd fished with me. Oh, and we'd made out hot enough that I needed new underwear. What did that count for?

"Seeing each other," she repeated. "Well, that's a start. How'd the donation go?"

My grin broadened. "I gave you two."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't give twice, Beth."

"I didn't. I brought a second."

Her lips turned up in a grin as well. "Peter?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

I nodded vigorously. "And then he took me for a burger. How awesome is that?" I asked excitedly.

"Pretty perfect," she agreed with a smile. "I should have let you handle the drive yourself. You were on the rampage."

"I hate losing," I muttered, slouching and crossing my arms.

Mary chuckled, eyes on the road. "Well, I don't see that being a problem."

I smiled at her and straightened a little. "What are you doing for lunch? I was thinking of hitting that new Thai place." Eating out last night meant I didn't have left overs today.

Mary chuckled. "I have a lunch. Maybe _Peter_ will take you," she practically sang.  
I stuck my tongue out at her. Soon enough, we'd be out of the car and I'd have to be _professional,_ but for now, we were just friends.

"Think we'll make it to second base soon?" I asked, clamping a hand over my mouth when the words had already escaped.

Mary laughed loud as she turned off the ignition. "Oh, baby, it'll be a home run with him. If not, I'll have the reason why." Her eyes lit up now; she meant it.

I smiled, glad Mary was on my side. I would probably need it when the rest of the office found out. Blowing out a sigh, I climbed out of the car.

My mind wasn't on the numbers all morning. I tried to do some writing, some filing, anything but data manipulation. It was only eleven, but I was useless. I threw in the towel, poking my head in Gary's open door, after finding Peter's closed and hearing his voice on the other side.

"I'm taking early lunch. Be back in an hour."

He looked up from the report he was reading. "What do I care?"

I shook my head in disbelief. I didn't understand how Gary got to be in high level position, let alone how he managed to stay there. His laid back attitude, although refreshing when you'd been staring at a screen for hours, didn't seem conducive to a business work ethic. Obviously, he was doing something right though; the boss's kept him around.

I walked the few blocks to the park, deciding on a sandwich at one of the bistros over Thai. I sat on a bench looking at the odd sculpture on this edge of the large pool. The water ran almost an entire block from city hall, giving the appearance of a lake in the middle of the downtown core. It was a great place to take a break.

I stood up, taking another look at the very thin figure climbing the twisted ladder. It looked like it was intended to be inspirational for those of us "climbing the corporation," but instead it made me think of the scaffolding at the lake and Jamie. I smiled, wiping the corners of my mouth and balling my napkin in my fist.

I turned, practically colliding with Peter. He was staring at the statue. I looked between the two a couple of times, expecting him to come out of it and talk to me, but he seemed lost.

"What do you see?" I asked him.

"Sarah," he whispered. Then he shook himself visibly. "I heard you had gone out for lunch and thought I'd try my luck."

I didn't know anyone named Sarah. I wondered who she was. Someone from his childhood? The way I'd just been thinking of Jamie.

"Well you got lucky," I said, not sure how to reply. "Did you need to get lunch?" I had noticed he held nothing, no sandwich, no bag.

"No, I... I left it in the office," he said looking down at his feet.

I couldn't quite understand. "You came to meet me for lunch, but didn't bring your lunch?" I giggled a little at the end. He turned a little pink.

"Gary just told me you'd left. He didn't say how long ago. I..."

Still chuckling, I put my fingers to his lips, stopping him. "It's all right. You don't have to explain. I'm glad you did," I added after a slight pause, a little less glib.

"Did what?" he asked.

I couldn't help laughing again. "Came to find me." I grabbed his hand, lacing my free fingers through his. "Walk with me?"

A large smile spread across his face. "I'd love to. Around the lake?" he offered.

"Perfect," I said dumping my garbage in a nearby can. "And you can tell me about Sarah." I smiled at him, knowing my dimples were showing. It was a trap, but I didn't want it to feel like one. I was really curious about him. He knew I didn't have any siblings, but I didn't know if he had any. I didn't know if he grew up here or moved after college. I didn't know much before two years ago when I met him. I was understandably curious. Especially if this were to be something more than a fling, and I dearly hoped it would be. I'd done the casual dating scene and it didn't suit me.

"Not today?" he pleaded.

I set my mouth in a line, but nodded before walking away.

He sighed. "Ask me something else? Anything else?"

I turned to face him, crossing my arms beneath my breasts, appraising.

He blanched a little then flushed. He reached out and grabbed my wrists, pulling my hands to him.

"Please, Beth. I will tell you, I promise, just... please, not now."

I knew the disappointment was still on my face. "Tell me about your grandma, the one that gives you cookies." I still wasn't smiling.

"I will tell you, this weekend?" he offered. "All about Sarah, okay?"

I nodded.

"Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed me, still holding my wrists tightly. He stepped back and I felt my lips curl up. It was so nice to be touched by him, kissed by him, if only I were trusted by him a little more.

"Grandma Netty is my Dad's Mom. She lives in Florida with her sister Flo. They moved there when I was still in school." He turned us and started walking again.

"And you visit her every Christmas? Are your parents in Florida too?"

"My parents are dead." He said flatly.

I stopped, staring at him. "I'm sorry... I didn't... Oh God, Peter-"

"Stop, Beth," he said with a tiny smile. "They passed a few years ago. It's really okay."

I took several short quick breaths before coming to believe him. "So... that's their house," I said, making the connection aloud.

He chuckled. "Yeah. I couldn't afford that place myself. They'd almost paid it off though. I should clear the last of the mortgage next year."

I nodded, smiling. When his face reflected it to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked with a chuckle.

"For trusting me. For letting me in."

He squeezed me tighter and I felt my breath leave in a whoosh.

"I want nothing more than to let you in, Beth. Please, please come in."

Whoa. That... might have frightened me if I hadn't just thought that I wanted more than casual. I kissed his cheek, settling back on my heels and sniffing. Was I tearing up? I touched the corners of my eyes, surprised to see that I was.

"Beth?" Peter asked, searching my face.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"Shit, I knew I shouldn't... I wasn't supposed to fuck this up, it was supposed to be perfect." He started to stalk away from me.

My eyes narrowed. "Peter Strauss."

He stopped dead, peeking over his shoulder at me.

"Here. Now." I pointed at the ground in front of me. This had to be straightened out. I wasn't about to let him go thinking anything about this afternoon, with the possible exception of not telling me about Sarah, was a mistake.

His mouth opened, working on air. He closed his eyes a moment before obeying me.

"I may have been overwhelmed, but only because it's more than I thought I could expect. Not more than I wanted. If you ever walk away from me like that again, I won't stop you," I threatened. An empty threat, a bluff, I wasn't about to let him go now.

He gasped a little. He took my hand again. I didn't realize both were on my hips. I dropped the other as well.

"Anything you say," he breathed, kissing my fingers.

I blushed, not knowing what to make of his gesture.

"Well, then we should probably get back," I told him, still flustered.

"Of course." He wrapped my hand around his arm, leading us back to the office.


	22. Week 23: P B & J

Kimmydon Week 23

Posting Date: October 27, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: P B & J

* * *

Beth was cooking me dinner. Not in my kitchen, in hers. It had been her idea. I'd suggested taking her out for dinner before a movie, but she'd vetoed that plan, saying she didn't feel like going out.

So now I was sitting across from Jamie, who was eyeing me up and down. I had stopped at home to change, thank God. The girls were both in sweats and tank tops. A suit and tie would have been very out of place. As it was, I felt overdressed in a polo shirt and slacks. Jamie's eyes narrowed and she flipped up the hood of the black pullover she had put on when I came in. I tried to figure out what I might have said or done to offend her...

_"Peter!" Beth greeted me with a kiss, pulling me in by the arm. "Thanks for coming." Her broad smile and her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, added to her pale arms that were usually hidden under blouse or blazer, drew me close behind her, pulling her into a reversed hug. It wasn't until my hands crossed on her belly that I realized there was someone else in the apartment._

That might have been it. I thought it was a rather innocent hug. It wasn't as though I was groping her, or rubbing myself on her, or anything untoward. In retrospect, I probably would have if Jamie hadn't appeared then.

"Peter," Jamie said formally, her reddish eyebrow arched. "I understand you hadn't taken notice of Beth before two weeks ago."

"Jamie!" Beth scolded, turning her back on the risotto she was stirring.

"What? I want to know." Her green eyes found mine again, cold and unforgiving.

"Um... I..." What could I say that she would believe? That she would understand?

"And why did Brian notice you?" Beth asked turning back to the stove. Her voice was colder than I was used to. Jamie didn't seem taken back by it, but she did lighten a little.

"Because I tripped him in the hall," she said without shame. "Did Beth fall into your tree?" Jamie asked, a smile twitching on her lips, as though she were fighting it.

"Something like that," I replied, seizing the opportunity to give part-truth, something they would understand. I had plans to talk to Beth about Sarah this weekend, but it wasn't something I would talk to her friend about.

The smile broke and Jamie laughed. "I knew she would climb that tree. There was no way she'd pass up the chance to see you in the buff. Ow!"

A wooden spoon cracked on Jamie's hand. I hadn't seen Beth leave the stove, and now only the swaying of her hair on her back showed she'd moved at all.

Jamie was still laughing, holding her reddened hand. "It's true! She talked about you all the time, you know."

A pot landed with a thump on the table between Jamie and I. "That is enough," Beth said as coldly as before. "Supper is ready." Her tone lightened a little and she smiled at me.

After supper, Jamie was washing the dishes as Beth led me through their apartment. She'd already started supper when I arrived, so I hadn't seen more than the kitchen and breakfast nook. It was a small apartment, so the tour was short.

"And this is Jam and Bet," she said with a smile and flourish of her hand. I looked at the stuffed animals, not comprehending.

She sighed. "Jamie and Beth? They're Mini-us."

"Give up, Beth. He's not going to want that kind of teddy," Jamie called from the kitchen sink.

"Shut up!" Beth hollered back, turning pink.

"I think they're adorable," I told her picking up one of the white bears. "Where did you find them? This _is_ Bet, right?" I asked, hoping I hadn't picked up Jamie's bear.

"Yep, that's Bet. We won them at the fair when we were thirteen. We traded and each kept the other's until we moved in together."

Jamie came in and hugged Beth from behind. "BFFs," she said, resting her chin on Beth's shoulder for a moment before opening one of the three closed doors. "This is my room. You no tour here." She gave me a scowl before closing the door.

I couldn't follow Jamie. She was hot and cold, and just when I adjusted to one, she was the other.

Beth smiled at me and led me to another of the doors, this one to her room. I stood at the threshold, looking around.

The only girl's room I'd spent any amount of time in, was Sarah's. The girlfriends I'd had were never serious enough for me to notice their rooms, and most were so untidy, there was nothing to see but piles of clothing. Beth's room wasn't spotless, but except for a cardigan on one of the bedposts, all the clothes were put away. Most of what sat out were books or magazines. Her walls held nature posters and pictures from the lake.

"You can come in," she said, a little shyly, sitting on the edge of the bed. She suddenly blushed scarlet and made a quick move with her hand toward the pillow. I made a point to sit at the foot of the bed, although I was painfully curious what had embarrassed her.

I pointed to the picture on her nightstand. "Your parents?" I asked.

She nodded and pulled the frame to hand to me. "Yep. My Mom and Dad. This is my Uncle Terry. He's a riot. A trucker. We don't see him often. When he's in town, he's usually at the cabin." She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "He's the one that taught me to fish. It wasn't Dad's thing. He likes to row."

I nodded. "My Dad wasn't a fisherman either. Big surprise," I said rolling my eyes. "He wasn't really outdoorsy at all, and Mom only gardened. I imagine you could teach me a lot."

She smiled brightly, taking the picture frame back. "I'd really like that. Hikes? We can start with the parks in the city, lots to see there. Do you know there are over fifty species of birds that migrate through this region?"

I didn't, of course. A bird was a bird. Blackbird. Bluebird. They sounded different, but I couldn't tell you how. "I would like that, too. Saturday?" I said beaming, remembering her suggestion that we kiss every Saturday.

She remembered, too, and giggled. "Yes, and I can drive to the Point," she said with a smirk, reminding me that she liked to drive my car. I hadn't been to the Point since I was kid. It was a nature reserve inside the city.

"That would be perfect. You can tell me about trees and birds, and I can tell you about Sarah."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and sighing quietly. "That would be very nice."

"Are you that upset about it? She isn't my ex-girlfriend or anything." I started to worry that I'd pushed too hard at lunch yesterday. The only thing stopping me from telling her then was the need to return to the office. I wanted to have hours to myself after opening that box of memories. Maybe now? "She was my-"

Beth put her fingers to my lips. "Saturday. Obviously, it's difficult for you to talk about. I want you to have time to tell me everything. Don't do it twice."

I nodded, grateful. "Very difficult. Thank you."

She leaned forward and kissed me, her hand running down my arm to the plush fabric of Bet, still tucked in my elbow. Beth laughed. "Are you planning to take her home?"

I laughed, too. "I don't know. Jam might get lonely without her."

"No, she won't. You can take her home!" Jamie shouted through the thin wall. Beth slapped the wall with her palm and I heard Jamie laugh on the other side.

"Thin walls," I muttered unnecessarily.

"Yes," Beth agreed, rolling her eyes. "So kiss me really loud, okay?" she whispered with a grin.

She didn't have to ask me twice. Bet fell to the floor as my arms reached for Beth's sides, wanting to feel how thin the lycra of her shirt was. She giggled and fell back onto her pillow, causing me to topple atop her.

It took all my restraint to keep my hand over her shirt. It helped to put it on her hip, over the bulky fabric of her sweats. I made sure to leave some smacking kisses on her neck for Jamie's benefit, but when Beth moaned quietly, I couldn't stop. I licked and kissed all the way to her ear, feeling her moving subtly beneath me. Her thigh shifted a little against mine, her breasts rose with her breath against my arm, her chin tipped up exposing more beautiful white skin that begged to be kissed as well.

It all stopped abruptly when my hand slipped, sliding under her pillow. I braced myself, careful not to fall on her, but a buzzing came from beneath her head.

"Oh my God!" Beth screamed, pushing me aside and diving under the pillow. "Get out. Go, please. Don't... I'll see you tomorrow." She shoved me to the foot of the bed.

"Beth..."

The door of the room burst open and Jamie was pulling my arm. "Come," she ordered. Looking back at Beth, I saw her face down in her pillow. I longed to comfort her, but Jamie pulled harder. "Trust me," she hissed.

I did. She had known Beth a lot longer than I had. She dropped my hand in the living room, pulling Jam from the mantle.

"Give me five minutes," she said, opening Beth's door again.

Once she was gone, I had time to put together what had happened, to figure out what the buzzing had been, why she had been embarrassed. If she knew some of the fantasies I'd had... a simple vibrator was nothing. I used the washroom, the third door in the apartment, and emerged to find Beth, holding Bet. Jam was back on the mantle. She clutched the little bear like a child, tucking it under her chin, hugging it.

I came forward cautiously, reaching for the bear first. "Did Bet and Jam have a talk?" I asked, praying I didn't sound patronizing.

Beth smiled and then laughed, relaxing her grip on the stuffed bear. "Yes. Yes, they did. Bet is a silly bear, getting worked up over little things." She looked at the bear fondly and then at me. "I'm sorry I told you to get out. I don't actually want you to go." Her dark eyes were rimmed in red.

"I don't really want to go," I murmured, kissing her again, softly. "But I probably should." It was getting late and we both had work in the morning. I plucked the white bear from her elbow.

Her mouth opened into an 'O', but she didn't say anything.

"Do you mind?" I asked.

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"I'll make sure you get Bet back soon," I promised. "I'm sure Jam will miss her."

"Damn right!" Jaime yelled.

We both chuckled at that.

When I got home I opened the door to Sarah's room. Mom had packed away most of her things, but the bed was still there, with her teddy bear resting on the pillow. It was brown, but matched Bet in size. I made sure both were sitting on Beth's desk in the morning.

_A/N And THAT makes them P, B and J. Groan..._


	23. Week 24: Mudpies

Kimmydon Week 24

Posting Date: November 3, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Mudpies

* * *

The Point was beautifully dressed for the fall. It was hard to believe a month had passed since I climbed Peter's tree. Half of its leaves had fallen now too. I was glad we weren't at the lake today. The breeze was chilly.

I stepped out the car, still not quite believing he let me drive it. The vehicle was easily the most expensive thing I'd ever touched. It was fun to put my foot down and know that it would jump to whatever speed I chose. The amount of control I had sitting behind that wheel was invigorating.

"You're flushed," Peter commented, brushing my cheek as he rounded the car. "I'd think you'd ran here."

I raised a hand to my cheek, feeling the heat beneath it. Chuckling nervously, I answered, "I just like your car."

Peter's arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. "Good, then you won't be leaving me soon."

Smiling up at him, I pressed my lips to his. "Not soon, no." I kissed him again, pulling him closer, my hands sliding over his back. One of his hands drifted up, under my ponytail, cupping my neck, thumb on my cheek.

It was not a warm day, but I was starting to think I'd worn too heavy a coat. No... wait. I broke the kiss abruptly, stepping back. I giggled a little. "You'll make me overheat," I warned him.

His eyes drifted down my throat, which I was pretty sure was pinker than usual, over my coat and back up. "You could just shed a layer," he suggested with a smirk.

I mock punched him. "We haven't _gone_ anywhere yet," I complained. I turned on my heel and started down the path, shoving my hands in my pockets.

The crunch of leaves told me he was following, so I didn't turn. I did throw out an arm to stop him though, pointing. "That is a chickadee." It was one of the most common birds, but it was on a low branch, practically watching us.

Peter stopped, examining the tiny songbird. It chirped at him.

"Chick-a-dee-dee," I sang to it.

It replied, and Peter started. "Apt name," he murmured.

I giggled. "Yes. It has another call, listen." The two note call was sounding elsewhere around us. "Phoe-be," I sang, mimicking. Peter smiled at me. "What?"

"You are adorable," he answered. "And your voice is lovely."

I narrowed my eyes, sure he was teasing, but finally let it go, continuing down the path to the marsh.

Once there, I was able to point out six different ducks, as well as geese and one heron. We also saw a muskrat and chipmunks.

"They're even smaller than squirrels," Peter complained, watching another stripped tail disappear under the bridge.

"There are a lot of small things around here." I picked up a tiny red spider mite, no bigger than a grain of sand, but on my skin we could see all eight legs.

Peter brushed it away quickly. "I want to kiss that," he muttered, putting his lips to my hand, closer to the wrist.

I chuckled. "They aren't dirty. Not really," I looked down again feeling his eyes on me. "You're still hung up on that aren't you?" I asked. "Getting dirty?"

He shrugged, his nose scrunching in distaste. "So?"

I shook my head. "There is so much fun to be had getting dirty." I slipped off the edge of the boardwalk. Peter snagged my elbow, and I looked at him, curious. I was standing on soft soggy marsh, but I wasn't up to my knees. I was only a little wet, more cold. "I'm fine," I told him, pulling my arm away and searching for something in the reeds.

Peter chuckled the first time I lunged, missing my prey. He landed with a splash the second time. I'd overextended and landed with a smack in the mud, but I had what I was looking for.

"This is disgusting," he complained helping me to my feet, my hands still cupped around my prize. "Are you okay?"

I was ginning like a madwoman. "Perfect. Look." I opened my hand very carefully and the frog stuck his nose out the hole. He almost escaped, but I closed my hands again, pushing him back inside.

Peter, startled, had fallen backward and was sitting in the mud now, looking like he might scream, or cry.

I turned and sat beside him. I was so muddy by this point that a little more on my ass wouldn't hurt anything.

"Ready this time?" I asked, holding out my hands to him.

He grumbled but nodded.

I opened my hands completely. The frog didn't move right away. Having adjusted to the warmth of my hands, he wasn't as keen to jump back in the autumnal mud. We got a good look at him before he jumped away.

"Why?" Peter asked looking at me and wiping away a bit of mud from my cheek.

I shrugged, smiling brightly. "Why not? How else will you ever see a frog? They don't tend to just sit on a branch for you like a bird. You have to get dirty sometimes to get what you want. I'm not about to let a little mud stop me." I stood and offered him a hand.

He smiled, taking it. "Sarah would have liked you more than I thought."

I held my breath, hoping this was it. He turned and climbed back on the boardwalk, so I let my breath go and took his hand.

"She never let anything stop her either," he said with a sigh. "Can we head back? I'd really like to clean up."

I tried not to let my disappointment show as I turned back down the path.

Peter sighed, taking a few quick strides to catch up to me. "Beth," he moaned, exasperated. "You'll understand, okay. When we're clean, and I tell you the whole thing, you'll understand why I wanted to get out of the mud."

I didn't stop, but linked my arm through his, nodding. "If you say so. Shower at your place?" I asked with a grin.

He missed a step, but kept up with me licking his lips. "Uh, yes. That... Yes." He ran a hand through his hair, nervous. Then he looked at the mud on it and grimaced.

I couldn't help but laugh. I ran a little ahead so I could turn and see the sticky matting that had resulted. Then I crooked a finger, before opening my arms to him. Peter grinned and stepped quickly into them, kissing me. I put my hands on either side of his face, sliding them up into his hair.

He broke the kiss, a little breathless, more so than me. He realized this when he met my eyes. His were suddenly curious, then brightened with understanding. "You didn't."

I laughed loudly and ran away, hoping he would chase me. I had just rubbed mud on both his cheeks and in the rest of his hair. He looked so natural, so unassuming, so... mine. I wished I could have him like that forever. One day, he'd be that comfortable with me. One day, he wouldn't first look in the mirror to make sure every thing was in place. One day, he would first look to me, see me in a mess, and not care that he was too. It was there, the beginnings.

He caught me up, swinging me from behind. I laughed as we whirled together. He set me down hard, looking in the direction of the parking lot. "My car," he murmured.

I laughed loudly. "It'll clean!" I took off my jacket and reversed it, hoping to keep most of the mud off the seats. He took the driver's seat this time, after wiping his hands on a tissue. I shook my head and fought off giggles. We were both so filthy. It was great. It was also cold though. The wet mud was now much closer to my skin. I reached for the heat and Peter grabbed it first, using the opportunity to take my hand and rest it with his on the gear shift.

"You're sure you want to come back to my place? I can drop you at home," he suggested.

I thought about it. It wasn't late in the day, barely noon. I'd been looking forward to spending the whole day with him. Jamie was inviting Brian over, and I did _not_ relish the thought of meeting him for the first time looking like this. I'd do it. I mean, might as well let him know what he was getting into as far as Jamie's friends went, but I wouldn't enjoy it.

Was Peter asking because he thought I expected more? Showering together? I let my mind follow that thought. I liked that thought. I liked picturing myself curled in his robe drinking hot chocolate while we warmed up. Yes, I was totally in for this.

"I'm sure," I said with a smile. "Hope you have a big hot water tank. Could take some scrubbing," I teased, wiping some of the mud from his cheek.

He made another face, squeezed my hand, and pressed a little harder on the gas.


	24. Week 25: Revealing

Kimmydon Week 25

Posting Date: November 10, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Revealing

* * *

I felt a little nervous stepping out into Peter's garage. I took off my shoes there, not wanting to drag mud through his house. Then I pulled off my jacket at the door.

"Maybe you should just hose me off outside," I suggested with a grin.

He laughed. "That sounds like a terrible idea." He pulled off his jacket and shirt.

I stopped, staring for a moment at his bare chest, then his bare back as he pulled off his shoes. They were ruined, I noticed, bending to them.

He straightened suddenly, nearly clipping my chin with his head. "What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

"Your shoes," I moaned.

He pulled me up, kicking off the remaining shoe. "They're old. I expected they wouldn't stay clean. Don't worry."

I met his eyes and found truth. He wasn't saying it to appease me. Then I noticed his chest again and licked my lips, nervous.

"No pressure," he urged me. "There are two bathrooms. You can have the one down here, if you like."

It took a moment for me to look up at him, but when I did, I smiled broadly. "That sounds like a terrible idea," I mimicked.

He chuckled, but not for long, as I continued my imitation of him, removing my own muddy shirt and following with the pants. Standing in my underwear, I felt goosebumps break out all over me.

I gave him at least a full minute to stare. I kept my hands at my sides for the first twenty seconds before crossing them over my pert nipples. They showed dark through the lacy fabric of my bra, but I tried not to be embarrassed; he certainly wasn't declining the show. Still, it was not warm in the garage. "Shower. Hot. Now." I got cranky when I got cold.

He snapped up suddenly. "Yes, mistress."

What? I looked over my shoulder for a minute, wondering if he was talking to someone else.

"Ma'am," he said, trying to imply that was what he'd said the first time. I was sure it wasn't, but I still couldn't understand what he'd meant, so I let it go. Mistress? Who called someone Mistress? That was so... old fashioned. I didn't get it.

He was still blushing pink as he picked me up. I squeaked, not expecting it. Laughing, I said aloud, "I can manage the stairs."

He shook his head and put me down on the landing. "Of course. Although, now, I've carried you over the threshold."

I missed the step I'd been aiming for, landing on my ass.

"Are there any other surprises you'd like to spring on me, Peter?" I asked. "Being that I'm on the ground, they can't hit me any harder." I looked up at him. I'd kept my tone light, teasing, but I was actually kind of serious. First calling me mistress, whatever that was about, and then implying he'd married me... I was literally as well as figuratively floored.

"Sarah's my sister," he blurted. "I'll get you a robe."

He disappeared up the stairs. I didn't move from my rump on the carpet. At least it wasn't the lino; that crap was cold on my toes and I was chilled enough. I was heating nicely with a bit of ire as I puzzled through that last dump of info.

Sarah was his sister. Was she still around? She didn't live here. Or if she did, she wasn't home now. I was pretty sure she wasn't here, ever. That expression, downtown, that wasn't the face of a brother who wondered where his wayward sister was. It was one of mourning, of remembrance. She was gone.

I didn't have time for more before Peter scooped me up again. I was quietly impressed; I wasn't small or light, but he didn't grimace, although I could tell he was happy to set me on the couch. He turned on a gas fireplace and pulled a robe of his own on, having left one on my legs.

He lifted my feet and sat with them in his lap. Pulling off my slightly muddy socks, he held my cold toes. His hands were warm, and helped me relax.

"Sarah was three years older than me," he said, looking at the fire, not at me. "She was wild, untamed. No one could hold her back. No one could stop her." The gleam in his eye froze and his voice choked a little. "No one but fate, and me."

It took a lot of control, but I didn't interrupt, and I didn't console. I waited. A moment later, his head rose again, looking once more into the flames.

"She would sneak out at night. She'd used that damn tree to get back in, jumping to the roof."

_The roof_. Something clicked. _It wasn't his safe place_.

"I'd often wait for her up there, when I knew she'd gone out. She'd let me smoke with her," he said with a snort. "She was a rebel. God, I love her. I wanted to be as wild as her, but I never had the nerve. I was too worried about what other people thought, what Mom and Dad thought." His lips twisted in a grimace. "Wasted concern there," he muttered.

I wanted to stop him, to scold him for doing his parents such a disservice after their deaths, but I couldn't. I was rapt, barely breathing and listening to him.

"One night, I wasn't there. She slipped off the roof." His voice broke and he let go of my feet to hold his face. "She... She.." He tried several times, always choking on the words.

I sat up, pulling him to me, resting his head on the terrycloth of the robe. "You told me. She died. She fell... and died?" I confirmed, not wanting him to have to say it.

He sniffled and nodded against my breast. "In the mud."

I froze in the middle of stroking his hair. The mud. The mud that was in his hair, on my hands, the socks on the floor.

"Oh, God, Peter. I didn't know. I wouldn't have."

He looked up, gripping my shoulders. "No, don't. It was good." Tears still streaked his cheeks, but his eyes were clear now, vibrant. I was held by them. "Don't you see? You've moved me past." He chuckled once. "Well, started to, anyway."

I couldn't help but chuckle too; he had a long way to go before catching frogs and making mud pies. "Tell me more?" I asked, taking his hands in mine.

He smiled sadly, lifting me by the hands and leading me up the stairs. He stopped at the pictures I'd only half-noticed my last time here.

"Here we are. I'm five in this one, Sarah eight." London's skyline stretched out behind them. It almost seemed whichever parent had taken this was more interested in the architecture than the children. Still it was easy to see the punk style of Sarah, with her short blond hair spiked out, wearing a tie around her forehead. Eight, he'd said. I would have guessed her eleven. He looked five, and happy.

The next was his parents. "This was their twentieth anniversary. There's Grandma Netty, and that's Grandpa Dave. He passed a few years ago. And Grandma and Grandpa Strauss. They live in France. I wish I could visit them more often," he said with a sigh.

He led me up a few more stairs. This photo was taken in Paris. "Visiting Grandma and Grandpa?" I asked, smiling.

He smiled too. "Yep. As usual, Dad was trying to get the tower, but there's Sarah. Mom was furious she'd colored her hair black." He laughed suddenly. "It's only because the green she was trying to dye it didn't turn out. So she covered it in black. God, what would Mom have done if Sarah had flown to France with green hair?" He sighed, obviously remembering.

I looked at the photo. It was her back. He was right, his father was shooting the tower beyond her. I looked to the next and smiled brightly. "Graduation?" I asked pointing.

He sneered. "I keep meaning to take that down."

I stopped smiling once squared with the photo. Peter was beautiful, as he always was. I could see the sorrow in his eyes though. "This wasn't long after..."

He shook his head. "Only eight months. You can tell?" he asked.

I nodded. "It's not obvious, but I've seen you smile. This line," I pointed, touching the glass, "isn't in it, and your eyes are... too cold," I finished. I looked to his parents now and was even more deeply saddened.

Peter's mother was obviously the source of his good looks. She could have easily graced the cover of a magazine, even in her thirties. His father was good looking, darker than his mother or himself, slightly gray. His father's eyes were glassy, even in the photo. He had been drinking. Celebrating maybe? It seemed to sad for that. And his mother's mouth was too tight as well. This was obviously a grieving family.

"Fuck you, Dad. Fuck you and fuck your booze." Peter stamped up the last of the stairs and opened and closed a door.

I looked back at the photo, wanting to offer their spirits something. "It had to be hard, losing a daughter. I'm sure you didn't find it easy, staying together and raising a son. But you did a great job." My voice cracked a little, thinking about the man who might still hear me. "He is a good man. He works hard and treats his friends and coworkers well. It is a shame you aren't here to see him, but he is. He is a fine man. One you should be proud of."

The door opened again, and Peter's mud streaked head popped out. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Thank you," I said moving to his side, closing the door behind us. "Thank you for letting me in. Thank you for sharing with me. Thank you for being the man you are." I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved to my toes to kiss him.

His arms were quick to find my waist, pulling me up even as he bent down, his tongue eager on my mouth. He broke to murmur, "I love you so much, Beth."

I inhaled, taking the words with the air, holding them, letting them setting in me. Then I exhaled. "I love you, too." My voice was quiet, but not so that he couldn't hear.

His hands pulled the tie of my robe, his fingers finding the skin over my panties. Following his lead, I opened his robe, running my hands up over his chest as we continued to kiss.

Only when I felt the damp tip of him on my belly did I start, stepping back. He wasn't wearing underwear. How had I not noticed that? I looked down, at myself, then back up at him.

He was looking down. "No pressure."

"Well, that will make showering difficult," I teased. "You need water pressure for a good shower."

He grinned, pulling me by the fabric of the robe. "Can I get you dirtier first?" he whispered in my ear.

"No," I declared, pushing him back again. This caused him to hit the bed and sit down on it.

He looked up at me, confused but still excited.

"I'm going to clean you up first." Sinking to my knees before him, my eyes feasted on his length. It was framed in blond curls, darker than those on his head, coarser. I ran the fingers of one hand through them while the other slid up his thigh.

"Beth, you don't have to-"

"Shhhh," I hushed him, taking the base of his shaft in my hand, the other still combing his hair and cupping his balls. I rubbed them gently as I stroked.

I watched his reactions. First in his groin, the tendons rising as he tensed, his balls moving against my hand. Then in his face, the way his eyes opened and closed, the way he sucked through his teeth and went slack-jawed. His eyes blazed on mine, passionate fire in them. I didn't let him take control back though. I had him in the palm of my hand, and I was keeping him there.

When he moved to pull me up, I kissed the tip of him, causing his hands to tighten rather than pull. I settled back a little, licking along him, tasting salt sweat, and clean skin - soft skin over the hardness.

I hadn't given head often, but I had never wanted to as much as now. I took the head into my mouth, sliding very slightly.

He winced. "Teeth," he whispered.

I released him instantly from my mouth, still holding him in my hand. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, cupping my cheek. "Just letting you know. It didn't hurt."

I saw no lie on his face and smiled, planning to try again.

"You don't-" His words cut off as I went down on him. My lips, wetter now, slid more easily, further. I sighed on him, feeling him on my tongue.

He groaned when I sighed; it made me smile. That made him twitch. I thought of how completely I held him, how much he was mine.

How much was he mine?

"Peter?" I asked, stroking his length slowly in my hand. He didn't answer except to hum. "Are we... What are we?"

"I'm yours," he said simply, his voice husky and breathless. "All yours."

I liked that. It was answer enough. I put my mouth around him again, pushing down with my hand as I took him deeper over my tongue. My throat closed as he neared the back, and I felt his hands in my hair, pushing it away to hold my face.

"Shit, Beth, that's good." His cussing made me want to try for more, but I knew I would gag soon. I took a breath and tried anyway. His hands on my face guided me, but didn't push, in fact he stopped me, holding me in place. I sighed, feeling safe with him.

"Crap, Beth." Apparently the sigh did good things to him. I felt him move in my mouth, which did elicit a slight gag. I pulled back, stroking him again.

"That needs to come off," he said, reaching into my robe and unfastening my bra. Lifting his hands, the robe fell from my shoulders, and I dropped him long enough to slip it from my arms. He pulled my bra away at the same time. "Damn, you're beautiful," he told me, pulling me up.

"But... I wasn't finished," I complained.

"Neither was I," he agreed, holding the base of himself to rub lightly on the inside of my thigh. It made me tingle and gasp. His other hand slipped into my shorts style panties and cupped my ass, which tensed at his touch. "So nice," he said, fondling me gently, his thumb running the crease of my ass.

I swayed a little on my feet, suddenly a lot less stable. "Peter, I..." My voice sounded huskier than usual, deeper.

"Yes, Beth?" he asked, his mouth finding my breast from my collar bone. He was kissing the inside slope as he rubbed my thigh once more.

"Are you... " I couldn't think straight. What this man did to me. I knew there was something I need to ask for, but what? "Do you..." Each question was ended in a pant and a tug of his hair. My fingers had gravitated there, of course.

The mud streaked locks were still pliable and I had pulled them in any number of directions. God, he looked good, natural, not putting on any show, no facade, just Peter, naked before me. My mind gave up the fight and I held his face to my chest.

His hand came up to the waist of my panties, the other dropping himself to join it, sliding them down my legs. I hissed at the exposed feeling as they came away. I stepped out of them carefully, holding him to keep my balance. He was looking down at me. I did, too.

Brazilians weren't normally my thing, but after the stinging subsided, I loved how tender my skin was, how soft. It had been a test, for today, when today came. Up until now, I'd trimmed when I knew someone would be poking down there, doctor or boyfriend, but I wanted to go an extra step this time. I hadn't regretted it the first night I touched 'speedy petey' to myself, and as his fingers touched my lips, brushing them without spreading them, I didn't regret it now.

"Peter," I moaned, tugging his hair again.

With a growl, he grabbed me by the waist and swung me onto the bed. He pivoted, coming to rest between my knees. I shook with anticipation. His hands ran up my stomach, over my ribs and chest. "Goddamn beautiful," he muttered, his fingers brushing my pointed peaks, making me arch slightly.

"You are," I returned, still not able to think properly.

"I seem to have found another way to shut that wise mouth of yours. Like this?" he asked, blowing across the sensitive skin between my legs.

I shuddered at the sensation. He still hadn't touched me there, and I was ready to melt. I couldn't find words, but guttural sounds escaped me as his lips brushed my waxed ones.

"Your smell," he moaned. I watched his blue eyes close where the peeked over my pubic bone. My eyes closed immediately after as the tip of his tongue parted my lips.

"Oh God!" I half-screamed, hands latching onto his locks.

"Unnngh," he groaned, his tongue jumping on my skin. His voice was muffled, but I made out, "Pulling, shit."

He liked me pulling his hair? Well, that was good, because I wasn't letting go. I didn't think my fingers would open right now if I tried. They tightened, in fact, as I lifted my hips and thighs, opening myself for more of his kisses and licking.

"Your tongue, fuck, Peter. That's..." I was usually pretty articulate. I occasionally had difficulty finding the word I needed, but nothing like this. It was like all nouns, all adjectives had flown away, leaving only verbs behind. Lick. Kiss. Touch. Tug. Thrust. Fuck.

I must have been muttering some of these because I heard Peter's muffled voice again. "You want to fuck?" he asked lightly, teasing. "Are you sure? You don't want more of this?" His fingers were inside me, and now he rubbed them against the edge, drawing them out slowly. I cried out, tugging his hair again as my legs twitched.

"No... No stop." I didn't care if I made sense or not, my hips would tell him what I wanted, they were already thrusting against his hand.

"Yes, Beth," he murmured, sliding up my side, his lips stopping at my nipple as his thumb took the place of his tongue. He kissed the dark, puckered point, flicking that agile tongue over it. I clenched in response, shuddering on his fingers.

"Damn..." I groaned, feeling the heat swelling as my legs moved of their own accord, twisting and tilting. "God."

"Come for me," he whispered, kissing my neck, which was still relatively clean. Most of the mud was on my face and hands.

One second of thought for the mud on his hands struck me, but it couldn't last. It felt too good.

He noticed my pause though, a question crossing his face just before I pulled his face to mine, kissing him. My tongue fought its way into his mouth as I continued to pin his fingers.

He moaned against my mouth. "I want to feel that," he mused, moving his fingers very slightly.

"I want to feel that," I said, taking a hand from his hair and wrapping it around him again. "Shit, how I want to feel it. Will you? Do you?" I couldn't complete a thought if my life depended on it.

"I'm going to..." he complained, his face tightening, his chest was next, his arms. All of him tensed up and I realized that I'd touched at just the right, or just the wrong time, depending on the goal. I slid my thumb up, encouraging the coming reaction, wanting to see him lose everything on me. I wanted to see Peter.

"Shit," he cussed as the thick liquid hit my belly, warm. I kissed him again, stroking lightly. He gasped, shaking beside me. "That... that... Don't..." I held him, grinning at him. He was literally in the palm of my hand. I squeezed just to prove it to myself.

He groaned and closed his eye. "Beth. I..."

I kissed his forehead. "I'm teasing. How about that shower now?"

"Yeah, I seem to have added to the mess."

"Wasn't that the idea?" I asked, remembering the threat to make me dirtier.

He laughed, covering his eyes with a hand. "I suppose it was. Come on," he said, rolling over me. I pursed my lips at the feel of his skin sliding over mine, the warmth of his body so close, the mechanics of sharing a bed. I loved this man more than I realized. I wanted to share this bed. I didn't want to go home.

I was home.


	25. Week 26: Waking Up

Kimmydon Week 26

Posting Date: November 17, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Waking Up

* * *

**-Peter's POV-**

Beth followed me into the shower. I couldn't help my eyes eating up every one of her curves: her hip, the slight pouch of her belly, her waist, her breasts, her cheeks. She was simply perfect. She fit me perfectly.

She crossed her arms, pursing her lips a little. "I'm getting cold again," she reminded me.

Shaking my head to clear it, I started the shower.

A few times, I had considered remodelling this bathroom to put a stall in place of the shower and tub combo. Now I was glad I hadn't. Although she would have _had_ to press against me in a small stall, we fit much more easily in the tub. I pulled the head from the hook on the wall to run it down her back, over her butt, unable to resist the urge to run my fingers over it as well.

"Lots of mud there?" she asked with a smirk.

"Tons," I said soberly, cupping a cheek, pulling her closer. "I don't know how I'll get you clean enough."

She laughed, squirting a bit of my body wash into her hands. Inhaling, a small smile came to her lips. "This is good stuff," she murmured, putting her palms to my chest and working up a lather.

My mouth opened as her hands roamed over me. She bit her lip occasionally, never really taking her eyes from me. I grabbed the shampoo in one hand, fixing the shower head in place again with the other.

As I twisted, her hand cupped my ass, then slapped it suddenly. I gasped, feeling my dick twitch and harden.

She didn't seem to notice, giggling as she rubbed body wash over my belly. She rubbed her own then, washing away the splatter I'd left on her.

I caught my breath and turned back to her, squirting the shampoo in my hand and sliding past her, letting her stand under the falling water. As we squeezed by one another, I felt her nipples draw a line across my chest, her thighs rub against mine, her hands guiding my step. Could I keep her here? Would she do this with me every day? Could I be so lucky?

_Too soon,_ I scolded myself. Smiling, I worked the shampoo into her hair, washing the splotches of mud from it.

She sighed, tilting her head up. "So warm," she murmured, shifting slightly under the water, smiling. Her eyes were closed and her expression one of content.

I leaned forward to brush my lips across hers, a whisper of a kiss. They turned up even further, eyes still closed. "Mmmm, very warm," she said, opening her eyes slowly to mine. Her smile was fixed as she reached up to wipe at my face, her fingers rubbing away the dirt she had put there.

Once her hair was lathered, I took another dab of shampoo and reached for my own head. She stood still, eyes fixed on my chest, then slowly moving lower.

I was suddenly self-conscious. Gary made sure I worked out at least somewhat regularly, but I wasn't buff by any stretch of the imagination. Skinny was probably a better descriptor.

She obviously liked what she saw though, as she stepped forward to wrap arms around me, peppering my pecs with kisses.

My heart seemed to skip a beat. I stiffened further where I was tucked against her leg. "Beth." I breathed her name into her freshly rinsed hair. It smelled of my shampoo, mom's shampoo, mine.

"Yes, Peter," she replied, turning her ear and cheek to me, resting against me. "Yes."

_Yes?_ I wondered what that meant. I hoped it meant everything I wanted. I stepped carefully around her, turning her at the same time so I wouldn't have to let go. I needed to rinse my hair before I got suds in his eyes. Then I looked down at the dark-haired beauty that had so completely taken over my life, given me new life.

"Will you stay?" I asked very quietly, praying for a yes.

She smiled up at me. "I was hoping you'd ask that. Yes, Peter. I would love to stay." Leaving me standing under the cooling water, she stepped out onto the bath mat, grabbing a towel.

Turning off the water, I hurried to follow her. She giggled as she saw me emerge and ran for the bedroom again, her towel flaring behind her. She'd taken the only one, I realized belatedly; the other was in the hamper.

"Wait!" I called, chasing her.

She laughed and continued to trot around the bed, holding the towel up in front of her like a sheet, hiding behind it.

I growled playfully and swatted at it. She dropped it, spinning around me and smacking my ass again before rolling over the bed to land on her feet on the other side. Her hands rested on the mattress, hips twtiching from side to side, almost like a cat's tail. She was ready to run or pounce.

I gasped at the second swat, feeling fire run through me. Seeing her challenging me, made me lustier still.

Her eyes widened slightly where they rested on my abdomen. Lifting to my face, her eyes narrowed a little. "You like that?" she asked, crouching further. "You like when I run?"

I sighed. Could I tell her? No, still too soon.

"Not the running," I admitted, grabbing my robe and pulling it on. While I was half bent, a weight landed on my back, bending me further. Grabbing the mattress, I stretched sidelong on it. Beth wasn't light. I could carry her, but not with ease.

"I'm not done playing," she declared, nipping my ear. She laughed, squirming on my back. Her hips swung down my leg, putting her feet on the floor again, then she rolled me over. "Roar," she said, straddling my hips. I was tucked neatly between us as she pinned my arms to the bed, and I stiffened quickly.

"Mew?" I answered, more than a little overwhelmed.

She laughed loud, tossing wet locks that hung straight down her shoulders. "You're going to let me take you," she said, leaning into me on the word _take_.

I groaned in response, fantasies I'd been fighting coming back to me. It had been hard enough when she took the lead earlier. I'd waited, building my resolve, before plopping her on the bed and taking control back. I wanted her to lead. I wanted her to tell me what to do, what she wanted. Where she wanted it.

My hands balled, but didn't pull from her. She noticed, looking at them. I watched the puzzled look on her face slowly smooth. Beth was smart, too smart.

"Oh," she whispered, a grin replacing the playful smile. "You _do_ want to play." Leaning into her hands, she licked up my throat and over my ear, her tongue tickling inside it. As she did, she rubbed the smooth skin - where her hair had been - against me, making me groan and thrust up at her.

That made her tisk and push down with her legs, knocking me away. The mattress bounced in response and I was banged against her pubic bone several times, wincing at the slight pain. It felt like it might bruise. She held still above me.

When I caught my breath and opened my eyes, hers were fiery. "Where are your condoms?" she asked, her voice commanding.

My mouth fell open. "I... I don't... There should be some in that drawer." My eyes flicked to the bedside table.

"Don't move," she ordered, mouth tight.

I licked my lips and shook my head. She smiled a little and let go of my wrists, jumping to grab what she sought.

_This is it,_ I thought. _She's going to ride me, get off on me, use me like her toy._ Each image made me throb harder for her.

"Put this on," she ordered, holding out the small black square.

I sat up, ripping it open in a hurry.

She was deep in thought, I could tell. She often got that look at her desk at work when she was puzzling through a problem. Slowing my actions, the condom rolled down my length, casing me. When I couldn't delay any longer, I looked up at her.

"Good," she said, her eyes darker somehow. They were such a deep brown they were almost black normally, how could they get darker? But they had, darker and warmer. My breath caught again, anticipation pounding in my veins.

She licked her lips, eying me over. Instead of self-conscious, this time it made me hotter. Something in that look, cold and judgemental, instead of warm and tender, made me burn. She was weighing me in her plans.

"Turn around," she said.

Not understanding, I lifted my legs onto the bed, sliding my ass in enough to sit up properly. She grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to her, my balance shifting. My legs went up and then came down bent, trying to hold my weight on the bed so I didn't fall off. It wasn't a danger, only my shoulders and part of my chest hung off the bed.

"Good," she said, looking me over again. "Yes... Keep that head down," she told me, crawling up onto the bed.

I tucked my chin to watch her ass swing as she made her way to my hips. There was a biting sting as she slapped my thigh hard.

"Head down," she repeated.

With a gasp and clench of teeth, I relaxed my neck and back, hanging off my bed.

"I'm watching, Peter," she warned. "Keep it down." Then, through the thin sheath of latex, I felt heat envelop me.

"Fuck," she muttered as she slid me into her. I couldn't help but agree as my hips rose to meet hers. She wriggled slightly, as though trying to make sure I was as deep as possible. It sure as hell felt like it to me. I lifted my head very slightly, wondering which way she faced.

Another slap to my thigh, this time followed by a pinched nipple. "Damnit," I cursed, biting my tongue slightly, feeling the sting spread and subside.

"Down," she said again.

"Yes, Mistress," I murmured, my breath heavy.

Beth chuckled. "Mistress," she said lightly. "You will obey?" she asked, sliding off me.

"Yes, Mistress," I answered afraid a no would mean she wouldn't get back on.

"Good boy," her voice was teasing, but her touch wasn't. She massaged my balls for a second before slamming her hips down on me. We both grunted at that. "You are going to make me come again, Peter," she declared, her voice different than before. It was lusty, but much more controlled. She was choosing her words, not grasping for them. "You are going to fill me until I can't take it. I am going to close on you, tighten on you, drag the come from you."

_Holy shit._ This was better than any of those fantasies. Her voice, her words... I couldn't say. I could only respond as she started to ride me, her hands still walking over my skin.

My ears started to ring and my face was flushed. I was panting as Beth rode me hard, her hips colliding with mine as she grunted and moaned, at one point almost screaming. Her sounds drove me mad. The feel of her around me, even through the stupid condom, was amazing, better than I could have dreamed. I wanted to tell her...

"Pussy, legs, hands." What? Had she melted my brain? All I could find were nouns. "Shit, cock."

She chuckled and I lifted my head, wondering if it was anything other than my nonsense that made her laugh. She dug her nails into my legs, tearing up them. It felt like she'd ripped my skin open. My head sank back instantly.

"I said head down," she said slowly punctuating each word with a thrust. "Now you keep it down, until I'm done with you."

I felt a quiver through her legs where they pressed against mine. "Fuck," she whispered, almost squeaking. Then she let go on me, her voice turning to a low moan and grunt as she ground down on me. Her nails trailed lightly over my belly and then I felt her hair on my chest, falling off the edge of the bed.

She gasped. "God, that was good." She sat on me for a moment, rolling her hips in a circle. "And how are you?" she asked, her head looking down at me, hair hanging into my face.

"Go-ood" I answered, stuttering.

"Good," she said with a smile, sitting back up. "Keep that head down," she called as she started to bob on me again.

When we were done, we were done. The room smelled heavily of her and I never wanted to wash the sheets, though I knew I'd have to. She was curled on my chest and it was quiet outside, the dead of night. The clock read four. That couldn't be in the afternoon, I thought, holding her as she dozed.

It hadn't all been sex, but it had all been naked. I'd shown her more of the house, particularly Sarah's room. She had pulled me from there to bend herself over the banister of hall. She made a point of distracting me whenever my thoughts turned too serious, and she had put her mark on every room of the house.

Suddenly my stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten since the quick snack we'd grabbed in the kitchen before she pinned me in one of the dining room chairs.

Beth laughed, opening her eyes. "I'll make us something," she said, sliding off the bed quietly. "I have to text Jamie. She never told me if Brian left tonight." She waggled eyebrows at me. "Maybe we both got lucky." Her grin was brilliant.

So was mine, happy to be the reason she wasn't at home tonight.

She poked her head back in the door. "By the way, I'm losing important beauty sleep, I'll have you know."

"You don't need it," I told her. "You have beauty to spare."

She grinned and walked off.

I grabbed my robe and cigarettes and headed out on the roof, assuming she would be a little while. I lit up and leaned back. The air was cold, but I'd been so warm, so long.

"Peter?" Beth asked, finding the tiny door to the attic and poking her head out. She handed me a grilled sandwich on a plate, then cinched her robe tighter before sitting beside me, leaning into me for warmth.

Rubbing out the smoke, I put one arm around her and lifted my sandwich with the other. "Thank you." I told her, kissing her.

She wrinkled her nose and lifted her own sandwich to her lips. "I didn't know you smoked. Tastes terrible." Her eyes closed as she hummed around her sandwich.

"Yeah. I think I'll quit. As long as I have another reason to come sit out here." I looked up at the stars obscured by clouds that were just starting to lighten with dawn.

"You're the reason I'm out here instead of bed," she said, chewing another bite.

"You're the reason I love losing sleep," I admitted. "Much better than the old reason."

She sighed and rested her head on my shoulder. "I can be the new reason, and hopefully you lose less," she said, poking me in the ribs.

I chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure I'll get more sleep. Eventually. When you're done with me." I laughed and she giggled too.

She worked her legs a little, rubbing them together. "I think I'm done with you for a little while. Ouch."

I laughed again, putting my forehead to hers. "Can I kiss it better?" I asked.

"No!" she shouted, jumping up and running into the house.

I smiled, kicking the pack off the roof before turning to follow.


	26. Week 27: Moving Day

Kimmydon Week 27

Posting Date: November 24, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Moving Day

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

A strange image filled my dreams these days. Traffic flowing in two directions. Go forward, or go back, staying still wasn't an option. I was smart enough to know what my subconscious was trying to tell me. I had to move. Limbo wouldn't last and events would carry me in one direction or another if I didn't choose one for myself. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to go forward, with Peter. So I was.

Jamie and I couldn't seem to stop hugging me. She and Brian had been together a month, but she wasn't ready to move in with him. I, however, hadn't spent a night here in the last week. My clothes migrated quickly to Peter's as I took a change with me, and left the dirty there to be washed.

He hadn't proposed to me, the only thorn in my side. We were living like a married couple, but he hadn't taken that one step to tell the world that was what we would be. I hadn't asked him about it; we had only been a couple a month ourselves. Once, that was probably a reasonable courtship, but these days people dated for years without talking about marriage. Not me. I trusted him when he said he wanted to be with him forever. I recognized the look in his eyes as he helped me prepare a meal, when he watched me settle with a book in the living room. He didn't want me to go.

Mary, like Jamie, knew that a change had occurred. After all, I hadn't needed a ride for the last week and a half. She was the only one at the office who knew. I thought we did an excellent job in remaining professional. No one else had commented, and Mary was keen enough to wait until we were alone to bring it up. In fact, we exchanged more email on it than anything else. She was happy for us, but reminded me that the office policy did not look fondly on intra-office relations. So I shouldn't have been surprised when Gary called me into his office.

"Beth, I have good news and bad news." His smile was huge.

I put one hand on a hip, knowing he was playing me. "Bad news?"

"Company noticed. Actually, Peter's a sap and told them. I told him it was stupid, they didn't need to know, but he preferred to tell them before things turned to rumors. You two are amazing, you know that? I don't think anyone but Mary and I know you're even better friends! Still, that's the bad news."

Well, that wasn't so bad. So they knew, that meant a transfer. God, I hoped it was in the office. Otherwise, I'd probably have to quit.

"The good news is, you're being promoted." He beamed. I laughed as he passed me a legal sized envelope. It would contain the details of the offer. I ripped it open quickly and sighed in relief.

"What?" he asked.

"I was worried they'd ship me off somewhere."

He chuckled. "Nah, just up a floor into admin."

"Thanks," I said as I turned to the door.

"Thank you," he said to me, and I gave a questioning look over my shoulder. What did he need to thank me for? "I've known Peter since college and I have never seen him as happy as he is now. All thanks to you."

I blushed and left the office. How could I respond to that?

At my desk, I took my time reading over the details. The increase in pay was meager, but my cost of living was going down if I moved in with Peter. The position was what really interested me. I was in admin, which meant ample opportunity for growth, and it was under the VP of operations, which put me in an excellent spot for trouble-shooting, my favorite thing to do. I loved finding little snags and teasing them out, or larger ones and tugging until they disappeared. The hours were the same, of course, so I'd continue to ride with Peter. I quickly signed the bottom, signifying my acceptance and popped the envelope back into the mail.

Then I knocked on Peter's door.

"Come in?"

I closed the door behind me before leaning over the desk to peck his lips quickly. They pursed in an expression that spoke of both distaste and enjoyment.

"You know you shouldn't do that.

"Why not? I'm moving after all."

He leaned back in his chair smiling at me. "Gary wouldn't tell me a thing about it, jerk. What did they give you?"

"Admin. Assistant VP Ops."

He sat up straight. "Holy crap. That's great, Beth!"

"Settle down. They aren't paying me assistant VP salary," I said rolling my eyes. "I think it's a training position for something else."

"Yeah, for VP Ops!" he said, still glowing.

I highly doubted that but didn't argue. "In any case, since the administration knows..." I rounded his desk and pulled his tie as I kissed him. "We don't have any secrets to keep." I loosened the knot enough to pull it over his head.

"We still can't..." he started, but I stopped him, taking one hand and using it to spin his chair away from me. I grabbed the other and pinned it behind the chair as well using the tie to secure his elbows. I'd gotten a lot better at knots. Girl scouts everywhere would be proud. "Beth, really... this isn't..."

I walked to the door, turning the blinds so they were completely closed now. Then I came back to him. "Seems that I'm in a position over you now, Mr. Strauss."

He shivered, and I could see the response to my actions in his pants.

"Beth," he whispered, closing his eyes. He opened them in panic. "We can't!"

I laughed, plopping myself in his lap and making him groan. "I'm teasing you, and doing a damn good job. We'll have to do this at home." I didn't release his arms right away, kissing his jaw and neck, slipping fingers between the buttons of his shirt and playing with the smattering of chest hair he had.

"I'll say," he groaned, thrusting up at me. He drove hard into my thigh and I felt myself twitch in response, my insides moistening slightly. God, I wanted to strip him... My mind wandered over images, but I settled on the one that would be the simplest in this position. I slipped down between his knees, grabbing for his belt.

"Shit, Beth..." he murmured, growing stiffer as I opened his fly. "Are you crazy?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," I replied, putting lips to the bottom of his dick in a kiss. The hum would still run the length. His blond hair tousled and he threw his head back. Tucked in space under his desk, even if someone came in, only his lack of tie and use of hands would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

I reached around, grabbing the end of my larks head, I tugged and tie came free. Just in time too. Mary burst in without knocking, as usual.

"Where's Beth? She isn't in her cube."

Peter's head came up in surprise. "I..." he glanced down, and I took him in my mouth. I was such a tease. He exhaled and inhaled carefully, nose flaring. "She was needed," he said. I almost laughed. He wasn't going to lie to her. This should be good. "What do you need?"

"Weren't you wearing a tie this morning?" she asked. I took him deeper in my mouth and laughed around him, the sound choked completely. He coughed in response and moved in my throat. Whoa... that felt... I tried to imagine that when he was filling me elsewhere. I passed him the tie, which I had managed to put back into a messy Windsor. He pulled it on and straightened it. I laughed around him again and watched his eyes close this time.

"I see. Well I just came to give you this," she dropped paper on the desk. I heard it skitter. Then she kicked the other side of the desk.

"Fuck off, Mary," I said, unashamed.

"You, too," she said, cheerily and closed the door again behind her.

Peter sighed with relief. "What if that had been anyone but Mary?" he asked looking down at me, still licking and sucking.

"I wouldn't have teased so badly. You wouldn't want me jumping up just now, though, would you? That would be worse." Hand wrapped around him, I slid my mouth down over him, hand twisting. His hands went to the desk edge over my head, gripping it.

"Fuck, Beth..."

"That wasn't the plan," I replied smartly.

"Fuck, that mouth," he complained rolling eyes.

"THAT was the plan." I slid over his now wet and glistening shaft to take him right to my throat, just short of choking on him.

He lifted his hips, keeping his hands on the desk. I did choke but held on, bobbing very slightly, only moving a half inch or less.

"Oh my God," he groaned, just before shooting into me. I watched his face in awe. This moment would always be my favorite, just like that bed head. No holds barred, no walls up, nothing but him.

Licking carefully over the head, which made him shiver again, I pushed his chair far enough to slip out from under the desk. I smoothed blouse and slacks, brushing at knees that hadn't picked up much from the floor and turned to leave.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back into his lap, kissing my ear and neck.

"You'd better not get anything on me," I warned.

"Will you come downstairs sometimes?" he asked.

I stood, his hands parting for me. Leaning on the arms of his chair, my lips met his, as chastely as when I came in. "I plan to."

"I am the luckiest man alive. Will you-" He stopped suddenly, eyes flying open. "That's a question for later," he said, fixing his fly. "I will ask it though." He looked at me meaningfully.

Had he been waiting for the company? Suddenly Gary's words came back to me. _before things turned to rumors._ I smiled. He was going to make an announcement, a show... a proposal?

Licking my lips, I tried to keep my excitement contained. "I will wait," I answered. "But not too long." My eyes narrowed and I know my lips twitched.

His finger found my dimple. I was smiling more than I though. "Not long," he agreed.

"My new position is set to start in two weeks," I told him with another smile as I walked to the door. "In case anyone wanted to throw a party for me."

"I think a few people might," he said, pulling the paper Mary had dropped off toward him. He guffawed. "This is for you."

**Stop kissing ass and get back to work,** it read. "Cockblocker," I muttered, crumpling the page.

"How is it they're the only two that know?" he asked in wonder.

I shrugged. "They won't be for long."

He nodded. "They won't."

"Lunch?" I asked, cocking my head to one side.

"Sure," he agreed, pushing up from his chair.

I noticed the lipstick on his chin and neck. Rather than tell him though, I opened the door. As was so often the case, I preferred him looking less than perfect. "I'll meet you there," I said, sliding out. "Just going to... wash my hands," I said with a wink.

He chuckled and parted ways with me in the hall.

I arrived in the lunch room a moment later, but Gary and Peter were absent. "You?" Laura asked, quirking an eyebrow.

It didn't take more than a second for me to put it together. Was I the owner of the lipstick? I blushed. "Yes."

"He didn't take it well," Matt said, "all of us knowing. Congrats. Hope you two make it work." He stood up to take my hand and pull out a chair.

"Thank you," I said with a smile.

Gary came in, fighting giggles from the look of him. "Beth, can you come with me?" he said, his voice cracking.

"If you'll all excuse me." Pushing up, I turned for the door.

"Tell him we're all happy for you!" someone else shouted.

"You're moving?" someone else asked.

"Yes," I said turning around. "In with him!" I laughed.

Gary laughed loudly with me. "Two weeks, to admin," he told the others.

More congratulations were murmured behind me.

Peter was glaring when I entered his office.

"I wanted to do this right," he said, angrily. "I wanted to ask you first."

I fought to stay calm. Had I just ruined everything?

"Beth, I want you to marry me. I'm not proposing here, now, but I want you to know that I plan to." He pulled a velvet box out of his desk, and my mouth fell open.

I felt tears prick my eyes. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, pushing past Gary to go. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me back to Peter. I covered my face in shame.

Peter and Gary whispered to each other over my head. "Everyone is happy for you. They know she is moving."

"No one... said anything?"

"They said they're happy," Gary insisted.

I couldn't look up. Me and my teasing, me and my big mouth, me and my need to see him less than perfect. I knew what that meant to him. Why had I done that? "I should - have said - something," I managed between sobs. "I don't deserve that ring." Tears fell as I shook my head, still hiding behind my hands.

Peter's hands closed my wrists. Long thin fingers, nothing like Gary's, pulled my hands from my face.

"Don't cry, Beth," he said, his face looking haggard. "That hurts worse than anything. Please, stop." He released my hands to reach for a tissue and give it to me.

I blew my nose and dabbed the corners of my eyes, trying to gain control of myself. I could still feel my lip quiver.

"I won't do that again," I promised. "I know you don't like... people seeing you... less than your best." Each pause for me to find the right words. Gary was behind me, and I didn't know what he knew.

"I'm not ashamed of you," Peter promised me. "I just wanted to do this right."

"I'm sorry. I understand if you want me to move back with Jamie."

"What?" He grabbed my shoulders suddenly and hugged me. "No! I don't want that. God, Beth, I never want you to go."

"Excuse me," Gary murmured, closing the door behind him.

"I want you with me forever, Beth. I noticed your things have been accumulating at my place, but would you move in with me?"

I chuckled. "I've already started, and I told everyone I was, so yes, of course."

His brow crinkled for a minute. "You told..."

I blushed. "Someone asked if I was moving..." I looked down for a minute and noticed his shirt caught in his zipper. Laughing, I tugged the little tail.

"Oh my God," he murmured, sinking onto the edge of his desk. "How many people noticed that?"

I ruffled his hair, but that didn't get a rise out of him anymore, I did it all the time. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, they'll know..."

"That we're in love. Guess what? They already do. They don't think this some sordid way for me to climb the ladder. Or if they do, Mary will stomp the rumor to dust," I added as an afterthought. "They're happy for us," I stood between his knees, my hands around his neck. "I'm moving. We can move or be moved. I'd rather choose the direction."

"What?" he asked confused.

"That dream I've been having," I reminded him.

"Oh, two-way traffic. Right. Well, we've definitely chosen a direction."

"I'm happy about it," I said with a smile.

"So am I," he answered, pressing his cheek to mine. His stomach rumbled.

"Lunch," we said together.


	27. Week 28: The Hunt

Kimmydon Week 28

Posting Date: December 1, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: The Hunt

* * *

**-Peter POV-  
**

I left my office at the end of the day. I'd stayed a little late in the hopes of passing fewer people on the way out. I was still mortified about the lipstick and open fly incident. I saw Beth at her desk with a newspaper. Pulling on my jacket and turning off the office light, I came to her cube, the one she would be moving out of soon. It would be very strange to open my office door and not see her. I would miss it.

Approaching behind her, I wondered what article held her interest - she hadn't turned the page in my walk here. I was surprised to see her reading the comics.

"Anything good?" I asked, startling her slightly.

"Um... No." She set the paper down quickly.

I glanced over the images. "Which one?" I asked.

She sighed but knew what I was asking. Her finger stabbed one of a gray woman covered in cobwebs waiting for the phone to ring. I didn't get it. It wasn't funny.

"Why were you looking at that one? You don't wait by the phone."

"I was thinking about lunch," she said frowning. "I imagined you dropping me off at home and waiting for you to call to pick me up."

I laughed; I couldn't help it. "Okay, first, you wouldn't sit still that long." She lifted her eyebrows but nodded grudgingly. Beth was too much of a nature lover to stay in the house. "Secondly," I paused to kiss her temple, "I couldn't bear to go that long without seeing you."

She smiled. "I'm really forgiven then?" she asked.

"I told you you were." I pulled her up, wrapping my arms around her once she was on her feet. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She hugged my neck in return, tucking her face into my neck. "I'm glad."

"I'm going to miss you being here," I told her.

"What?" Her dark eyes went wide with surprise.

"On the floor, I mean. I'm going to miss having you so close."

She seemed to soften in my arms. "Oh, yeah. That'll be different. I'll still come down for lunch though," she said with a brilliant smile.

"I was hoping you would," I answered, following her to the elevator. "How much do you have left to move over?" I asked once the doors closed. I was curious. So many of her things were in my bedroom and bathroom now. I loved it.

"Not much! Another box of books, my desk, my bed. The big stuff is really all that's left."

I nodded. "How about we pick those things up this weekend? We can borrow Gary's pick up." He'd offered me the use of it anytime, as long as he could drive my Corvette. Good thing Mom taught me to share. Gary was a good driver, though he racked up the miles on the girl when he had her. I didn't know where he drove to, but he had to cross several states.

Beth was smiling. "Really? I mean, we never said as much... Really?"

I chuckled. She had no idea how much I wanted her in that house. Her voice, her presence, had banished the last of the ghosts that seemed to haunt me there. With her, I'd finally been able to let Sarah rest.

"I see I need to make myself more clear." I pulled the box out of my pocket again. It was my mother's wedding set. I'd had a Jeweler separate it so the engagement ring was in this box and the band at home. Hopefully she didn't feel the urge to go digging in my sock drawer.

"N-no. You've... made your point." Her eyes never left the box. "Then again, maybe..." she reached a hand for it, and I stuck it in my pocket.

"Not today. I have plans for this. It's going to be special." I touched the tip of her nose with a finger.

She smiled, not disappointed - good. Still, I was going to have to move on this soon, and I was going to need some help.

A call to Jamie and slipping out of the office at lunch, got the ball rolling. Then, I popped into Gary's office after calling Mary over.

"Gary, I'm going to borrow your truck this weekend, okay?"

He sat back and crossed his arms. "Only if I get the 'vette."

"Actually, I need to trade that to Mary for her car."

Her eyes popped. "What? You're loaning me your car? Are you serious?"

"I need two vehicles this weekend. Beth is going to be driving the truck, but I need to stay ahead of her."

"He has a plan," Gary said, looking to Mary.

"So keep the 'vette. I can give Gary a lift if he needs one."

Gary shot her a death glare.

I shook my head. "She'll recognize it. Your Sentra is a lot less conspicuous."

Mary smiled. "I think I'm going to like this plan."

"I'll admit I'm curious, too," Gary grudgingly admitted. "Do you need us for anything besides our vehicles?"

"Yes." I pulled out two envelopes and handed one to each of them. "Give these to Beth when she comes to you."

Mary pulled the piece of paper out of the unsealed envelope.

"Jam or Jelly?" she read. "What does this mean?"

"Nothing to you, but something to Beth."

Gary pulled his out, curious now. "Seek the tree of knowledge, or the one who fell from it." He snorted. "That's you," he said looking at Mary.

She narrowed her eyes.

"I'll be waiting at the end for her. Think she'll like it?" I wasn't sure she would, but I thought she might. Mary knew her better. Jamie seemed to think it was a good idea.

"Sure. She loves puzzles and problems. What's at the end? Besides you," she said rolling her eyes. "Not that she won't be thrilled with that," she mumbled, folding the note back into the envelope.

"This." I pulled out the box that I almost always kept in my pocket now.

Mary actually squealed as she ripped it from my hand. I looked to Gary who shrugged.

"It's beautiful, but not modern," she observed. "Grandmother's?" she asked.

"My mother's," I told her.

She nodded but didn't ask about my mother. "It's very nice but won't fit her. It's too small."

I frowned. "Well, I might have time to get it sized."

"Seven," she said. "This is probably a six." She pulled the ring out and slid it on one of her fingers before I could protest. "Yep, six." She pulled it off again right away, returning it.

"Will you need help loading?" I asked, watching Beth from the couch. I was pretending to read although I couldn't focus much.

"No, Jamie and I can manage. As long as you'll be here to unload," she said with a smile. Her hair was in a high ponytail, but she wore a dress. I was a little surprised. She came and kissed me before leaving.

As soon as she was out the door, I nearly ran to Mary's house. She laughed at me, but gave me the keys to her car.

"Is that what you're wearing?" she asked. I was still in my pyjamas and robe.

I'd been so hasty, I hadn't really given it any thought. "Yeah, why?" I said with a smirk. It occurred to me how much Beth would like to see me out of the house in tousled hair and a robe.

Mary shook her head. "I like what she's doing to you. Enjoy your day." She laughed as I left.

I had planned to follow Beth through her hunt, but I realized that it would only beg her to spot me. Instead, I headed to the end point. From the roof of her cabin, I enjoyed the cool breeze. It blew through the flannel of my pants, but wasn't bitter. My slippers were terrible footing, but they kept my toes warm once I was sitting, so I pulled them back on. I gave my head a good scrub and then checked my pocket again. The ring was there.

It was completely irrational, but I had a fear of her saying no. If I were honest, she'd already shown me that she wanted this, us, to be something more, something permanent. She had no reason to say no, but she might - she could. I wasn't taking a yes for granted, and I hugged my knees as I thought more about it - about life a few months ago, before Beth was really in it. I didn't want to go back. I couldn't go back. What would I do if she said no?

I heard a vehicle approach and looked to the road. Someone from another cabin, not Beth. I continued to brood.

It got dark. I checked my other pocket for my phone. Surely if she hadn't visited one of the stops, they would have called me. Wouldn't they? Was she still coming?

Headlights blinded me for a moment, and I closed my eyes, trying to keep my dark vision. When I opened them again, I saw a figure exiting a truck. The breath I'd been holding whooshed out of me.

She walked slowly to the dock. Bending, she looked over the edge. Confused, I climbed down, standing at the near side of the dock.

"Catch and Release?" she asked, holding up the note.

"No release," I said. "You can't throw me back. Well," I amended quickly, "you could, but I wouldn't make it." I smiled to take any sting from the words.

"Poor thing. You got hurt in the catching?" she asked, stepping toward me.

I nodded and took one step closer to her. "That silly fisher girl went and pulled my heart right out. Now I need her to bring it back."

She smiled. "Here you go." She thumped my chest.

Shaking my head, I argued, "You still have part of it. The only right thing to do would be to put me out of my misery."

She laughed. "Fry you up in butter?"

I narrowed my eyes, scowling slightly. "No." I went down on one knee. "Keep me forever." I opened the box. "Beth, will you marry me?"

"In your robe and slippers no less."

"Well, this is how we started," I pointed out.

She smiled. "Yes." Her hands went to my hair, pulling it slightly and making me moan quietly. "Of course, Peter. I would love to be your wife."

I stood, taking the re-sized ring from it's place and slipping it onto her finger. "Thank you," I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers.

"Thank you," she replied. "This means almost as much as the hunt," she said, pulling on my robe. "What did it take for you to come out here dressed like this?" Her dark eyes reflected the small lights from the cabins.

"You."


	28. Week 29: Wedding Day

Kimmydon Week 29

Posting Date: December 8, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Wedding Day

* * *

**-Beth**'s** POV-**

Six months had seemed plenty of time to plan a wedding, plenty of time to make bookings and purchases...

Six months was the blink of an eye. Holding Christopher's baby boy, Jesse, I was reminded of it. The last six months had changed him from the baby in the saucer, gumming crackers, to this toddler who ran, yelled and climbed anything he found that he could. As an only child, I thought Jesse would make an excellent ring bearer and flower boy, mainly because we didn't have any other candidates. No one else had any children, and Peter had only distant relations that he didn't know well. They'd been invited, just the same. Grandma Netty and his father's parents had flown in for the ceremony, arriving days before. We were sharing his old bedroom while Grandma Netty stayed in Sarah's old room.

My parents' house was hosting a night-before party. Mary, Jamie, and Jamie's brothers were here. My bridesmaids were _still_ trying to convince me to go out, particularly to a strip club, arguing that this was my last night of _freedom_. I was more interested in spending it with my parents. I didn't seem to visit them enough anymore. I hadn't talked to Don or Chris in ages, either and was keen to catch up with them.

Jesse, tiny fingers pudgy, grabbed my hair and pulled.

"Ouch!" I yelped, wrapping my hand around his. I tempered my reaction, not wanting to frighten him. "Let go, please," I tried to say calmly, the way Jennifer, his mother did.

He grinned baby teeth and said, "Ba!"

I couldn't help but smile, even though it undermined my authority. "Yes, Jesse, I'm Beth. Now please let go."

"Ma, Ba." He smiled broader at the two word combination, something very new to him.

Jennifer strode over and helped extract the tiny fingers from my hair. "Good thing it'll be up tomorrow," she mused. "He loves hair."

I agreed quickly, rising to see Chris and his family out. Turning back to my parents and friends, I was seized by the arms, Mary and Jaime pulling me up the stairs to my old bedroom.

"Good night, Mom! Good night, Dad!" I called over her shoulder, sensing I wouldn't be coming back down tonight. After smearing my face with a thick mask, Jamie and Mary sat in the open window, Jamie playing with my bloomers. The frilly satin made me smile. Mary was still amazed that I'd chosen such a short dress.

"Bloomers, Beth? Really?"

"Well, it is a short skirt," I said in my defense.

"It is. I'm fine with that, but bloomers?"

I shrugged, closing my eyes and putting cucumber slices on them. "They came with the dress."

"I like it," Jamie said, flicking my bloomers, making them snap. "It's like a baby doll's dress."

I nodded, unseeing. "Exactly. I'm going to have my hair in a pair of pigtails, too."

"Why the kid theme?" Mary asked. "Are you feeling immature? Eager for babies of your own?"

I shook my head, sighing. How to explain? "No theme, I just like to be able to move easily, and the dress is pretty."

"Oh, come on, Mary. Let's let the princess have her dreams of babies."

Taking off a cucumber slice, I threw it at Jamie, the other was for Mary. Mary scowled at me, but Jamie just caught the slice and ate it.

"You're really sure about this?" Jamie asked, suddenly concerned. "You haven't even been dating a year, Beth."

"I know, and I am sure I want this. The sooner the better."

"If you're sure, Bet," she said, happy again, hugging me and kissing one of my green cheeks. "Tasty. Got any tortilla?"

"Go on," I told her, shoving her slightly.

"We'll be back in the morning, Beth," Mary said, hugging me as well. "I'm so happy for you."

Sleep was elusive, my mind straying to worries of things not done, items forgotten. The next day brought sunshine and my bridesmaids jumping on my bed.

"Ack! Get off!" I cried, shielding my face with my arms.

They giggled but slid down. "Hurry up! We have to make you pretty!" Mary said, pulling my arm. She said it like it was a chore.

Jamie stood still, looking out the window she'd sat in the night before. "When are they bringing Jesse?" she asked, going from cheerful to concerned in a heartbeat.

"Ummm. Noon? No, one. After a nap," I said as I buttoned up a shirt that wouldn't muss my hair after it as finished.

"Call them."

"What?" I asked, confused. Mary had been spinning me around but stopped now. "Why?"

"A bad feeling. I'll call Chris." She pulled out her phone and started dialing. She grinned as soon as he picked up. "He's okay?" she asked. Then she nodded and hung up.

"How do you do that?" I asked. Sometimes she seemed psychic.

"That's what Chris asked," she said with a chuckle. "Jesse took a spill off the kitchen table. No one knows how or why he was on the kitchen table. Good news? Just a bump, no scratches. He'll still be pretty."

I shook my head hoping that would the only bump of the day.

It wasn't, of course. Mary and Jamie fought over make-up for twenty minutes before agreeing on something that might suit me. I was just glad they agreed. I never went crazy with make-up myself. Of course, a half hour later, they cleaned it all off and started again. It was an effort not to lose patience. The hair was worse. I was trying to sneak some lunch while they were busy working on each other, taking a breather while their attention was diverted.

Mom came into the kitchen and kissed my cheek. Her make-up was on and her hair dressed. "How you doing? Nervous?"

I'd seen her Mom and Dad moving in and out over the morning, but they'd been absent for a while. Dad came down and stole some of my carrot sticks, making me smile. He loved stealing off other people's plates.

"Nope. More worried about my bridesmaids, actually," I whispered, hoping neither heard me. Mary didn't respond.

"We won't hurt you," Jamie said snidely.

It was true, and soon after, I was playing outside with Jesse while a photographer took pictures. He was happy in his little white coveralls and dark curly hair.

"Are you ready, Jesse?" I asked, noticing people were packing up and loading into a car out front.

"Ba!" he said happily, bouncing his dimpled knees. Then he stumbled to me and wrapped his arms around my neck. Thankful my hair was all up, instead of in the pigtails I'd planned, I carried the twenty pound, chunky baby with me to the car and set him in the carseat that Jamie fastened around him. His parents were already on their way to the church.

"I'm so proud of you," Mom said, hugging me again, "and so happy."

Mom had tears in her eyes already, and I patted her back. "Don't cry, Mom. You'll be blotchy before we even get started," I teased.

"Right. You're right."

At the back of the church, I heard the similar words from Dad. "We love you, Elizabeth," he said, using my full name. He _never_ did that. "Be happy, and keep making us proud."

Jamie, who was my maid of honor, moved to the aisle ahead of Mary, holding Jesse. "Okay, run to Mommy," she said, giving him a nudge and pointing him to Jennifer in the front pew. Soon after he started, Mary followed sedately, ready to pick up the boy if he fell. He didn't, and Jamie was moving behind Mary.

I stood next to Dad, shaking a little in my lacy shoes. I tried not to look at the front of the church.

"Time to give away my baby," Dad said, sadly.

I kissed his cheek, chuckling at him and his silliness. "I'm not going anywhere, Daddy. I'll always be your girl."

He squeezed my shoulder and hooked my arm. Squaring my shoulders, I looked down the aisle, a little terrified. What I saw calmed me instantly. There, at the altar with Gary at his side, stood Peter, my life, my love, my husband-to-be. Michael, a cousin, stood beside Gary, but I barely saw either of them. For me, there was only Peter, and it took all my determination not to run down the aisle and trample Jamie on the way. This was my day. This was my place. I wouldn't wait any longer.

"Go."


	29. Week 30: Spat

Kimmydon Week 30

Posting Date: December 15, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Spat

* * *

**-Peter POV-  
**

Beth was up early, again. I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep, drowsy. I felt lips on my cheek and smiled, making her giggle.

"Do I have to get up?" I whined, cracking my eye enough to see her silhouetted in the early morning light. I thought I'd never get enough of seeing her like this, but somehow, sleep seemed more enticing... How odd.

She sighed quietly. "No, you can sleep." I felt her weight shift as she sat on the edge of the bed. I didn't feel her weight leave, but she was gone when I opened my eyes again.

Dragging my butt, the smell of coffee lured me down the stairs. Beth wasn't in the kitchen either.

"Shit," I swore, pouring myself a cup and slouching at the table. She'd gone fishing this morning. Her Uncle Terry was in town, and she'd wanted me to come with her. I'd met her uncle, but she wanted to visit him whenever he was at the cabin. "Why did she tell me I could sleep?"

Taking the cup upstairs with me, I searched out my phone. She'd left a message.

**Don't sweat it, really. Just be ready to clean fish when I get home. -B**

I smiled, but still felt uneasy. I'd slept in too many weekends, missed too many sunrise hikes, been too slow to join her on those outings. I looked at my feet and considered. She would have taken my car to the lake. I could cab it.

Decision made, I showered and found something suitable for the cabin. The cab wasn't cheap, but we weren't hurting for money. I made a note to myself to find a good nature site for a vacation, something that I would like, too. Costa Rica, maybe? Brazil? Lots of nature, lots of warm temperatures and skimpy bikinis. I could watch Beth watch birds... I liked this plan.

I was lost in these thoughts when the cab stopped. I hopped out and headed for the dock, seeing two people sitting at the end. As I got closer, I realized both wore ball caps. Beth rarely wore one. She preferred something with a broader brim. Also, both sets of shoulders were wide. My feet on the dock didn't turn heads.

"All dry, Beth?" Terry asked. "Or did you not find anything that fit?" He turned his head slightly, showing a grey, brush-like moustache. "Oh! Peter! We didn't expect to see you today. Beth's in the cabin. Her catch tried to reel her in!" He and his friend laughed.

I chuckled, too, knowing Beth wouldn't have been troubled by taking a dip in the lake, not when it was still nice and warm. "Hi," I said, extending a hand to Terry's friend, "I'm Peter, Beth's husband."

"Yeah, the city-boy. Beth told us about you. Dan," he said, shaking my hand. _City-boy?_ What had Beth told them?

"She in the cabin?" I asked, looking back the way I had come.

"Yeah, probably scrounging for something that isn't huge. I don't think there's anything of hers out here anymore," Terry answered, casting his line again.

I turned and walked back to the cabin. The door was open and I walked in to find Beth sitting on the floor and pulling on argyle socks. She wore only a T-shirt, giving me a shadowed, but unobstructed view of her panties.

"You know, you left the door open," I said.

"Oh my God!" she breathed, startled. "Peter!" She jumped to her feet. "What are you doing here?" She ran over and hugged me. Her hair dripped onto my arm, still damp.

"Visiting you and Terry... and Dan. You left the door open," I repeated.

She backed up a little, shrugging. I swatted her bum, reminding her she wore no pants.

"There's nothing here to fit me. Really, Peter, how many people are out here? Who do you think is going to walk in?"

"Hello?" Dan said behind us, and I raised a brow.

Beth rolled her eyes, but pulled my button-down off my shoulders, tying it over her hip. It would do.

"Hey, Dan," she said. "Nothing in the way of pants. Unless you have something that is a little tight?" She grinned at him.

I felt decidedly out of place, and more than a bit jealous as he chuckled and pulled off his cap, scratching his head.

"I don't really wear anything _tight_, Lisbet." Lisbet? Who called her that? She chuckled though and walked away from us. I didn't take my eyes from Dan, so I saw the way he followed her exit.

"That's my _wife_," I reminded him.

"Uh, yeah, I know. I just... well, remember when she was littler. She sure grew up."

My jaw worked, teeth clenching. Thankfully, Beth returned in her pants, hanging my shirt on my shoulders and kissing my cheek.

"Thanks, Pete. They're not comfortable, but I can wear them." They were still very wet and clung to her. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying not to think about Dan watching her and knowing he was. I opened them to find her bent, pulling on her shoes and his eyes on her backside, his arm outstretched to her. It meant he was there when she wobbled and caught her arm to right her.

"Whoa, Lisbet. Balance hasn't improved, has it?"

She laughed heartily. "Not a bit." She turned to me, her smile still bright. "Remember me falling on nothing when we were walking out here?" She shook her head, embarrassed at herself.

Dan hugged her shoulders and then headed out the door. "That's how you end up in a lake, you know."

She smacked his ass as he left rather than give the witty reply I would have expected from her. That really burned. I felt my hands clench into fists.

Her face fell a little and she took the fists into her hands, teasing them open. "Peter? What's wrong?"

"Can we go for a walk?" I didn't want to talk about this here.

"You want to walk?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes!" I snapped. "Is that so strange?"

Her lips thinned, and I knew I had erred. "Actually, it is." She crossed her arms under her breasts and turned to the door. "On the other hand, I enjoy walking, so let's go." Her voice was hard. I hated it, but I stalked after her, trying to ignore it.

As soon as she exited the cabin and found the trail along the lake shore, she relaxed, closing her eyes, listening to the shore birds singing nearby.

"I've accepted that you aren't going to change, Peter. You don't enjoy nature hikes. You aren't a fishing person. That's fine," her voice was hard, resigned, "but why do you ruin what I enjoy?" she asked, turning to look at me, her dark eyes full of hurt.

I'd done that? "I didn't mean to! I came to fish with you, Beth. I felt terrible about leaving you on your own for another weekend morning. This is our time together, now that we work on different floors, and I'm leaving you to spend them alone. I don't _want_ that."

She nodded, softening further and taking my hand. "I understand. I was thrilled to see you, at first. Then you seemed to go cold, get angry. That made me angry. The way you snapped at me, and then at Dan. He's an old friend, Peter. He and Uncle Terry... I think they're..." She clammed right up, embarrassed.

"He is not gay," I said emphatically. Not with the way he'd been looking at her.

"No," Beth agreed, shaking her head. "Not that. They're best friends though. I've known Dan since I was five. He's as much my uncle as Uncle Terry is. Do you see? I know he's always surprised to realize I have breasts now, and so he stares sometimes, but I'm still Lisbet, the little girl that fell down and scraped her knees, got twigs in her hair, fell in the lake." The last she said with a laugh. "I'm definitely still that."

I chuckled, too, my jealousy evaporating. "I can understand that. I'm sorry I showed up and jumped to conclusions. The way he was looking at you, how familiar the two of you are... I guess sometimes I think I'm the only one who should be that close to you."

She laughed loudly at that. "You want to be as close as Jamie? Listen to me crab about cramps and PMS? Or Mary, and hear all my complaints about the witches on the Admin floor? I'm close to all of you, all in different ways."

I nodded, understanding. "I get that. Dan and Terry are your 'nature' friends." She nodded, smiling at me. "And I'm not."

"No," she argued. "You could be, could have been, but this isn't something you enjoy." She gestured to the path. "I'll still drag you out sometimes, just because I love it so much, but I'm trying to be sparing, so I don't pull too hard."

I held her shoulders and kissed her temple. "You can pull a little harder. I need more fresh air."

She grabbed my shirt and tugged.

"And let's get a couple changes of clothes out here for you," I suggested strongly.

She laughed. "That's a good idea. I love you, Peter."

"I love you, Beth. Is Dan the only one who calls you Lisbet?"

She chuckled. "Yep. Don't know why he latched onto that, but he's always called me Lisbet. Better than Liz." She shuddered. I made a note never to call her that.

"Or Betty?" I wondered.

She stuck out her tongue. "Yes. No Betty, either."

"I'm going to stick with Beth," I told her, taking her hand again.

"I don't mind Mistress," she said with a wide smile that set my heart racing. "You can still call me that." She reached up and tugged my hair, tipping my chin up and exposing my throat, which she licked and sucked.

"Oh, yes, mistress," I answered.

A while later, her pants drier still, she pulled me back out of the bushes. I was covered in leaves, dirt, and scratches. She looked unscathed, probably due to being atop me.

"Make-up sex with you is odd," she said, putting the scarf back around her neck.

"Why is that?" I asked, pulling my shirt on.

"Because I'm in charge. Doesn't that seem odd?"

I shook my head. "I think I needed to remember that you're in charge, that I trust you. It was perfect."

She grinned. "True. What happens next time? Especially if I'm the one in the wrong? Are you going to punish me?" she asked.

"Would you like me to?" I asked, taking her in my arms.

She shook her head. "But maybe you could let me make it up to you, recompense."

"You say it like there will be a next time."

She glared up at me. "You honestly believe there won't? Peter, we're married. We're going to step on each other's toes once in a while. It happens. We just need to know how to deal with it."

I nodded. She was right. I could remember my parents after Sarah's death not dealing with it. "Well, I'd say for our first fight, it went very well."

She chuckled. "This wasn't a fight. It was barely a spat."

I pulled her into my arms again. "Well, then, I can't wait to see what a fight brings for recompense."

She laughed and squirmed in my grip.


	30. Week 31: Holiday

Kimmydon Week 31

Posting Date: December 22, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Holiday

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

I looked again at the brochure. Then I looked back at Peter.

"Are you serious?"

"You don't want to go?" he asked, crestfallen.

The information was for an "eco-resort" and showed wildlife, rain forests, beautiful flowers and a beach. I wasn't quite convinced. What made it different from any other resort? I was willing to bet that beach was covered in people most of the time and the animals frightened far from it. Still, Peter shirtless... there were benefits. He'd hike with me, and they hosted nature walks as well, with actual guides, giving him an out. If that wasn't swamped with people, I might actually see something. I could always wander off the path a little, too.

"I didn't say that," I hedged. I flipped the brochure over. "No. No, no no." I started cracking up.

"What?" he stood up from his chair and came to take the glossy paper from me while my heels drummed on the floor.

It was a girl in a tube top _dancing_ on the beach. The telling part for me was all the people on it.

"What?" he asked again.

"You don't think she looks like me?" I asked, still snickering.  
He looked again and coughed, then chuckled. "I hadn't. It's hard to picture you..." he laughed, too, and I joined him. It was impossible to picture me doing that.

Catching our breath he held my hand and pulled me from my chair. "Tell me, Mrs. Strauss, can I lure you into bed?"

I shivered, still not quite used to being called that. It was possible I'd never get tired of it. "I think you could."

There was an oddness to our bedroom. Tonight, like most nights, it was a haven of romance. I'd swapped the navy comforter for something lighter, cream with a pinstripe, and added filmy curtains to the top of the bedposts. Candles sat on the dressers and nightstands, and picking up a lighter, Peter set them alight. I pulled off my terrycloth robe to reveal the satiny nightdress I wore beneath. Not super-sexy, but certainly not dowdy either.

Other nights, though... I considered whether tonight should be one of _those_ nights. There were ropes, cuffs, a riding crop and flogger sitting in the closet. A set of red sheets waited beneath the cream comforter if I pulled it away.

Looking up at Peter, I contemplated again. It wasn't too late, was it? A quick glance at the clock showed the lie. We had work in the morning. Soft and gentle would be best. Still...

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I crossed my legs and arms, one finger resting on my jaw, tapping as I regarded him.

He froze in place, sensing my change of mood. "Beth?" he asked, confused. Usually we planned these things, but where was the fun in that?

"Come here," I pointed in front of me, lips turning up in a smirk.

He complied, turning a little pink.

I had had to do some research, but I was feeling much more comfortable directing him in the bedroom. I wasn't a 'dominant,' not really. He just liked me to take control here, and I didn't mind one bit. We played safe, and I didn't demean or humiliate him. If he wanted that, he'd have to go somewhere else. If he wanted a little pain with his pleasure, or restraints, I could provide those.

"Kneel," I told him, still pointing.

He groaned quietly and I watched his pajama pants tent. Damn, he was sexy. I bit my lip. We didn't need to rush that much.

Once he was on his knees, I ran one painted toe along his jaw. His eyes drifted shut, and I smiled. My foot came a little higher, my toes tracing his lips now.

"Kiss?" I made it a question, but he didn't take it as one.

Gasping, he put a hand to my heel to steady my foot and took one toe at a time into his mouth, licking the pad of each and making me quiver at the sensations. I was breathing heavily and my wrists were holding me up as I leaned back, my hair touching the bed as I arched.

Both our heads rose together and the fire in his eyes had to match my own. I fell to my knees atop him and kissed him, holding his stubbly cheeks and feeling his hands on my ass, pulling me closer.

"God, Beth," he murmured between hot, open-mouthed kisses. He lifted me enough to edge me back onto the bed and continued to kneel between my knees, his head tipped back. His hands skated over my thighs, pushing up my night gown.

"Yes, Peter," I answered, nails scratching his back, his scalp. I pulled his hair a little to tip his head further, kissing the apple of his throat, sucking on it lightly.

"It's still amazes me that you're here," he whispered, his throat tight. "I dreamed it. Am I dreaming now?"

Lifting one hand I smacked it on his ass, hard. "Are you?" I spanked him again, making him stiffen even further. "Do you need a third?"

"Yes," he croaked as I continued to pull on his hair. I obliged him, my hand stinging from the force of it.

"Not a dream," I told him, releasing his hair and drawing his hands up my body, pulling away the night gown.

"Better than any dream," he murmured, dropping his head to kiss my breasts.

"Do you think this would be better with ocean outside?" I asked, idly, teasing him a little.

"Huh?" He backed up a bit, confused.

I took the moment to pull off my panties and slide into the bed. He followed, kicking off the pants.

"In Costa Rica. The ocean will be just outside, right?" I turned, resting on my elbow.

"Oh, yeah. I guess so."

I walked my fingers down his chest. "Maybe... _in_ the ocean?" My lips turned up in a smirk.

"Anywhere," he said, closing his eyes and laying back on the pillow, "everywhere. God, Beth. I'd do anything with you."

I chuckled and shifted to rest my head on his chest, hooking a leg around his waist. "Good." I pulled with that knee. "How about here and now?"

"Definitely," he growled and rolled to place his arms on either side of my head. He stopped now, his brow furrowing. "Does this mean you want to go?"

I laughed, hooking my legs around his hips and hand on his shoulders. "Yes. I'd love to go. Christmas?" I suggested, thinking to run away from the cold.

"Perfect," he murmured, lowering his face to my neck and pressing himself into me.

"Perfect," I agreed, feeling complete.


	31. Week 32: Brian

Kimmydon Week 31

Posting Date: December 29, 2010

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Brian

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

___AN: Flashing back to pre-wedding. I know, two Beth POV in a row, but well, I needed to work with the pics ;) Peter next week, promise!_

I walked into the sub shop and took a seat at one of the tables. I wasn't hungry, but this was where he'd asked me to meet him. I fiddled with the ring on my hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

"Mrs. Strauss," I said and smiled. I really did like the sound of that. A young man stood at the counter ordering a sandwich. He pulled out his phone while the girl behind the counter assembled his order. Mine rang and I waved rather than open it.

Brian was younger than I'd expected. Not so much younger than Jamie and I, but most of her boyfriends tended to be older. He brought his lunch to my table and sat down.

"Beth?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded. "Yes. Brian, right? Good to finally meet you."

"And you. Jamie talks about you a lot." He unwrapped the sandwich halfway. "You don't mind, do you? I'm starving."

I chuckled. "No, go ahead."

"Thanks."

I watched the door, waiting for Jamie. When he was half-finished I had to ask. "When is Jamie coming?"

"She's not," he said and swallowed. "I... I wanted to talk to you."

Puzzled, I sat back. "Oh?"

"Jamie. Is she... Does she... Are you sure she likes me?"

I grinned. She had put this boy through so many trials. As near as I could tell, he'd passed every one and exceeded expectations on many. Jamie was so strange sometimes, and she had an odd way of testing a potential partner. I thought it was because that was exactly what she sought. She was much more likely than me to bring home a guy from the bar who neither of us would ever see again. If she wanted sex, she got that. She was looking for more these days.

"I'm sure she likes you, Brian. Does she give you reason to think she doesn't?"

He shrugged, slouching a little and pulling his hat a little further over his head. "Sometimes. We'll be talking, having a really great chat, arguing, y'know?"

I nodded. Jamie was quite opinionated.

"She'll be all intense and right there with me, and then." He smacked his hand on the table. "She stops. Sometimes she'll just start laughing at nothing, sometimes she'll just get really quiet. One time she actually yelled at me. Not loud arguing, yelling - asking me why I let her question everything I said. I don't get her." He shook his head and bit off another chunk of sandwich.

I licked my lips and tried not to laugh. It wouldn't be polite. How on earth was I going to explain this?

"Brian... that's just Jamie. She's very impulsive, intuitive. She runs on her gut. Now, I can tell you, her gut is telling her you're the guy, which means you're in if you want to be. But, if you can't handle her swings, you should probably tell her soon."

His face fell, looking at the table. "Why? Why does she jump around like that?"

I shrugged. "I used to blame her brothers. She was constantly on guard for one or the other to pull a stunt, and it made her permanently antsy. I don't think that anymore. She's special. She has a sixth sense for things. I learned to roll with it. My moods don't swing with hers, but temper them. Does that make sense? She can be happy and laughing and suddenly get in a panic, and I keep laughing to bring her back. You don't have to keep up with her, just let her come back to you." It was really hard to explain what I'd always done.

He nodded though, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He pulled out a gift bag and pushed the wrapper aside. A ceramic mug came from the bag to be placed next to his dessert.

"Will she like it?" he asked.

This time I did laugh. "Probably. Did you think of her when you saw it?" I ran my finger around the heart of the handle.

He nodded. "Looked right."

Smiling, I took his hand and squeezed it. "She is instinctual, are you?"

He shook his head. "I mean, I'm not the most organized or a big planner or anything, but I don't fly by the seat of my pants either."

"Good. She's going to need that. Of course, some of her has rubbed off on you already," I said, fingering the mug again. "I can only pray some of you rubs off on her." I rolled my eyes and he chuckled.

"Thanks, Beth. I... was worried I was barking up the wrong tree."

"You aren't. Trust her instincts, if you don't trust your own."

He smiled, liking that suggestion.


	32. Week 33: Counting

Kimmydon Week 33

Posting Date: January 5, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Counting

* * *

**-Peter's POV-**

Something was bothering Beth. I didn't know what, but she'd been preoccupied for a week. She was jumpy, too, unusual for her. Tonight was my night in the gym. She was catching a ride with Mary to a girls' night at the movies and would meet me at home. Gary sensed my discomfort, which stemmed from hers.

"What's gotten up your butt?" he asked as I was spotting him on the bench press.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Bullshit. Something's wrong."

"Something, but I don't know what," I admitted nervously.

He smiled and pushed the bar up again. "Don't like the unpredictability of married life?"

I snorted. "Yeah, really unpredictable." I guided it back into it's rest.

He chuckled. "I suppose. Go to work, go to bed, go to work, go to bed, sex on Tuesdays."

I punched him in the gut.

He grunted and laughed harder. "Oh? Thursdays, too?"

I shook my head. "You don't know half."

"Oooh, that means four days a week. Are they scheduled?" His grin wasn't malicious at all, just teasing.

"Only a few. I mean, if she's going to tie me up, we need to know we'll have time."

He choked on the water he'd just drank. "What? Shit, man, you can't drop something like that on me with no warning. What the hell?"

I shrugged. "I said 'if.'" I grinned suggestively now.

"Oh, man, that's just fucked up. You let her tie you up? What does she do to you?"

I silently took my place under the bar and began lifting. "We can do a lot in a year." Had it really been that long since I invited her in and refused to let her go? Counting reps, I also counted months. At twelve, I put the bar down. "Yeah, a year. Wow."

Gary still had a stupid look on his face. "What does she do to you?"

I sneered at him. There was no way I was going into detail. "What, you have no imagination? Google it, jeez."

He didn't ask anymore. He didn't say much of anything for the rest of the evening and ran for the showers as soon as we were done. I decided to run the elliptical a little longer.

How long had Beth been acting differently? When had it started? I couldn't quite pin down a day, but it had been last week. Had anything else changed? Work was the same, end of quarter messes to untangle. Those usually made her happier though. Home was good. Some small repairs to the house, nothing major, nothing we couldn't handle ourselves. Her family was good, at least the last time I saw them. Hell, Terry had visited just a few weeks before, so she wasn't missing him either. What was it, and why did it continue to bother her?

When something tripped her up, she might be out of sorts for a day or two, until she nailed down what it was and how to fix it. Like when we found out that we had a pipe leaking in the basement. We knew something was wrong down there, and there were couple uneasy nights. As soon as she located the leak, though, everything smoothed out. We got supplies, made repairs, done and done. It had to be people related. Maybe Jamie? Something was going on with her and Brian.

I remembered Beth coming home in a horrible state one day, but she wouldn't tell me what had happened. Just that it involved Jamie, Brian _and_ Mary. How that worked, I didn't know. If Gary did, he wasn't saying. My guess was he didn't either. Maybe a date mishap? She was supposed to go out with Brian but made plans with Mary by mistake? Knowing Jamie, it could be anything. She didn't seem to stay put on anything for long.

Worn out, I hit the showers. My phone had a text on it.

** Home early. Going to bed. Don't wake me? -B**

Don't wake her? Something was seriously wrong. I skipped the shower, thinking to do it when I got home.

Tiptoeing into our room, I did my best to obey her request. She was sobbing very quietly into her pillow.

"Beth? Baby, what's wrong?" I knelt by the bed, stroking her hair and back.

She stilled quickly. "Nothing. It's not wrong. It's fine. I just... I'm not ready yet."

Frowning, not knowing what to say to that, I kissed her head. "Tell me when you are, please. I want to help."

She nodded, sniffling. "Ewww. Go shower," she complained turning her head.

I chuckled and obeyed.

The next morning she seemed to be doing better. Up before me, as usual, she had made breakfast, something she hadn't done in a few days. No big deal, we just grabbed something on the way, but it had been one of the signs something was up. Maybe it was sorting itself out?  
I didn't say anything during breakfast or the drive to work, afraid of setting her off, but I made a point to ask her on the way home. Not being able to help her was driving me insane.

She buckled up after work, smiling. "Good day?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Usual. Looks like you had a good one."

She grinned. "Yep, fixed up the files Finance screwed over, got a new program from one of the analysts that's going to make my life SO much easier. Good day." She leaned over and kissed my cheek, her hand on my thigh.

It felt like a weight had lifted with that simple gesture. It seem that whatever had been looming over both of us was gone. Of course, I still had no idea what it was, and that bothered me.

"Beth," I asked, "what's up?"

She looked at me quizzically. "Up?"

"Last night, last week, you haven't been yourself." I ran a hand over her ear, tucking her hair back.

She pinched her lips together, an anxious expression for her. "I... I'm not sure... Not yet," she whispered at the end.

I sighed heavily. "Okay."

She smiled again, seemingly throwing the worry away. Her behavior was so ordinary, I didn't really think of it again until we were in bed, after we were in bed. She was naked, slick with sweat, head resting on my chest, the smell of us strong in the air. I kissed the top of her head and remembered the night before. Sleep eluded me as she drooled slightly, lost in her dreams.

In the morning, Saturday, I was groggy, cranky, and my wife was gone. I growled as I threw on pants and shirt. I didn't bother with my hair, a true sign of my irritation, and thumped down to find her. The car was still in the garage, so she'd walked wherever she'd gone. I pulled out, circling the neighborhood. As I drove, I called her friends.

"Mary? It's Peter. Did Beth have plans with you this morning? She didn't mention where she was headed." I tried not to sound like an over-protective or jealous husband. I doubt I succeeded.

"Not me."

"Do you know if she had plans with Jamie?"

I heard her cough suddenly. "Um, no, I don't know of any. I'm going to have to let you go, Peter. Sorry, water's boiling." The line disconnected. That was weird. I headed to her place, thinking maybe Beth had gone there and she was covering for her or something.

Mary's car was absent from in front of her building and I dialed up Jamie as I headed to _her_ place. Something was definitely going on.

"Hello?"

"Jamie, do you know where Beth is?"

"I am not her mother, Peter. She is not here and you can keep right on driving." I shook my head as the line went dead again. She was so strange. Mary's car was parked outside the building. I found a spot and climbed the stairs.

My phone rang as I finished the first flight. "She is _not_ here." Jamie said in a flat tone. I continued to climb and she stood in the open door, dressed in a robe. "You know you are being ridiculous," she said, not looking at me and turning back into the apartment. Mary sat with Brian, who I'd only met a couple times before, at the kitchen table, both sipping coffee. Mary's mug had an interesting heart-shaped handle that would have suited Beth.

"Water's boiling?" I asked Mary, cocking an eyebrow.

"How do you make coffee?" she asked, her blonde hair fell forward to hide her face.

I turned to the man. "Brian. I'm sorry to interrupt, but the way these two were dodging me, I thought for sure she was here."

He nodded, but didn't seem to want to answer.

"Sorry to bother all of you," I grumbled and turned to leave. It was only then that I noticed Jamie stroking Mary's back and whispering something to her. Mary leaned into the other woman's belly, and hugged her around the waist, burying her face in the robe.

"Is she okay?" I asked Brian.

"She will be," he said, not looking away from his coffee.

"Peter," Jamie said with a sad sigh. What had brought her down all of a sudden? With Jamie, who knew? "She's at her high school, JFK. Get out of here, please."

"Why didn't you tell me that-"

"Because I just figured it out!" she snapped at me. "Get the hell out of my house, Peter!" She shoved me suddenly and I stumbled out the door, which slammed in my face. So strange.

Realizing once again that I would _never_ understand her, I ran down the flight to my car. I knew where JFK was, although I'd gone to Middleton High myself.

I saw her, leaning on a rail, staring out over the nearly leafless trees. They were shedding their foliage earlier this year. What was she doing? What was going on? I climbed slowly, making sure she saw and heard me approach.

"Beth? Are you okay?" I asked before reaching out to hug her.

She smiled and opened her arms to me. "Do you know what today is?" she asked.

I held her waist in my hands and tipped my head to hers in relief. "What is today?" I didn't even try to guess. One year since our walk in the park? One year since we went fishing?

"Today is the day I finally got the courage to check."

My brow furrowed. "Check what?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a stick. "Do you think he or she might come here one day?"

I stared at the pregnancy test, utterly flabbergasted.

What was different in the last week? She hadn't had a period...


	33. Week 34: What's to Come

Kimmydon Week 34

Posting Date: January 12, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: What's to Come

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

I should have known it wouldn't be simple. Something as life changing as a child couldn't go smoothly. My own reaction had surprised me. I'd held Jesse and thought how nice it would be to have one of my own. The anxiety and down-right terror that had gripped me when my period was late seemed unnecessary. We could be parents. We had a home, a stable work situation, it shouldn't be too difficult to fit a child into our family. _Our_ family.

Now, that thought was comforting. Just a few days ago it had me running for the washroom, thinking I would be sick.

I hadn't. No morning sickness yet. Probably not for a couple more weeks. My stomach had been so knotted, my brain in complete overdrive, it was a wonder I'd gotten anything done. I was lucky no one needed me until the numbers came 'in' for the quarter. If they'd needed me to generate those numbers... I shuddered to think on it.

Compared to my terror and agitation, Peter's reaction was not expected, but not surprising. His shock had been much quieter than mine. As he drove me home from the high school, he was absolutely silent, brow furrowed. His hair stuck out at odd angles. He hadn't even brushed it. Had he been that worried about me?

Just before pulling into our drive, he sat back in the seat, relaxing. "Well, Mrs. Strauss. You led me on quite the chase. I'm glad Jamie knew where you'd be."

"Jamie?" I hadn't told anyone where I was going. Mary and Jamie knew my suspicions and that I was hoping to take a test soon. I had had to tell someone. They were a wonderful mix of excitement and worry. I was happy to take their minds off their own situation. "She's good," I murmured.

"What's going on there?" he asked me, unbuckling but not exiting the car, resting a hand on the back of my seat. "With her and Brian. And Mary. She was crying. Why would _she_ be crying?"

I licked my lips. This wasn't my story to tell. "She... They'll work it out. It's between _all_ of them, Peter," I looked at him meaningfully, remembering the call from Brian to go to my old apartment and what had been waiting for us when we got there.

"All of them?" he asked, still not understanding. "Is Mary getting in the way?"

Smiling, I seized the opportunity to give him something. "Yes, exactly. Jamie is stuck in the middle, pulled both ways. They need to figure out how to make it work for all of them."

"Oh. Well, that shouldn't be too hard." He kissed my cheek, and I had the feeling he still didn't quite understand. I couldn't say I did. Jamie had never brought a girl home from the bar before. I really didn't want any rumors starting though, so I let him think what he would.

I turned to him, the kiss on my cheek moving to my lips. His hand released the wheel to rest on my belly, his thumb caressing. I looked at it and then up into his blue eyes.

They sparkled and joy shone in them. It warmed and steadied me. He wasn't afraid. "Ready to be a dad?" I asked tentatively.

He barked a quick laugh. "Not in the slightest! There's nine more months for me to work up to that, right?"

I chuckled. "Right. I'm going to need them, too." I put my hand over his, imagining the life growing inside me. It still frightened me. A whole other being, dependent on me, and then us. Responsibility didn't scare me, not really, but this was so much more than I had ever had before.

"I have a request," he said, nose stroking along mine.

"Yes?"

"Will you help me convert Sarah's room to a nursery? I won't be able to do it alone."

My breath caught. We'd kept the room clean. I'd moved a lot of items to the closet reduce the dust collecting, but we hadn't actually gone through what was still in there. "Okay."

I woke in the middle of the night, a few days after we'd started packing up the room, to find I had the bed to myself. Pulling on a robe, I made my way to the attic and roof, knowing exactly where I would find my husband.

The cigarette was a surprise, only a slight one. He'd smoked with Sarah. I knew that now. It shouldn't shock me that digging through her life, as accumulated in possessions, would make him crave the time they had shared.

He lifted the glowing stick to his lips and I took the opportunity to lounge in his lap. "Our bed is too empty without you," I told him.

He looked over my face, my chest, and slowly down, one hand pulling open the tie on my robe. My midriff was bared between my tiny top and low slung satin pants. Both hands rested on me for a minute before he crushed out the cigarette and bent to kiss my skin.

"Does it feel strange?" he asked, lips still near my navel.

"Sometimes, but in a nauseous way." I put a hand to his hair, pulling it slightly to turn his head to me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"The jar," he said. "What do we do with it?"

I sighed. Sarah had kept a jar of her dreams. They were all rolled and sealed. We didn't know if they were actual dreams she had had at night, or aspirations that she would never get to complete. We were scared to find out. So far, I had placed the lid on the jar to keep dust out, but otherwise left it as it was.

"Let's leave it. Maybe this one," I rubbed my belly under his face, "will read them, fill them, live them."

He seemed to sigh. "I like that idea. It's so hard, Beth. Seeing everything she didn't do, everything she wanted. Books with bookmarks still in them. A camera with half a roll of film. Essays, poems." He leaned forward again, burying his face in me now. I stroked his hair, letting him cry on me. "She'll never be an aunt," he whimpered.

I had no answer to that.


	34. Week 35: Christmas

Kimmydon Week 35

Posting Date: January 19, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Christmas

* * *

**-Peter POV-  
**

I lay on the pool deck beside Beth. It was the first day we'd spend at the resort. I'd joined her for half of her hikes, lazed in bed for some, on the beach for others, but I'd managed to keep up with her for most of them.

She was loving it here. Sure, she complained once in a while that it was too hot and humid, usually when trying to sleep, but otherwise, she'd donned her khaki shorts and Lycra sports top and never looked back. Apparently she'd even climbed a tree, returning with the fruit to prove it.

I didn't like that part - worried that she'd hurt herself. Other than a few scrapes from the tree, she was fine, radiant in fact. There was a definite glow to her that went beyond the different light here.

Morning sickness hadn't bothered her much. She'd only been sick a few times. Generally, she just had no appetite in the morning, feeling nauseous for hours, and then ravenous when it passed. She had lost a little weight, which worried her and the doctor, but that had levelled off again. Everyone expected she would be gaining weight soon, as the baby grew.

Rolling to the side, I watched her doze, wearing her bikini top for the first time today. She had gone for the one-piece when snorkeling.

"I can feel you watching me," she murmured, a smile breaking out. She shielded her eyes before opening them. "I thought you wanted to nap."

"I thought I did, too." I rolled further, one knee on the deck, one on her lounge, propping myself up to kiss her. "I think I'd like to move our nap somewhere more private."

She giggled and turned on her side. "I think I can lead us somewhere." She kissed me again before rising. I followed her out of the resort and down a path. She grabbed my hips and spun, putting her back to one of the trees. We weren't far off the path, but the tree more blocked our view of it, and us from anyone on it. It was more than enough for me. Grabbing her thigh, I lifted it to my hip, opposite hand bracing the tree beside her head.

"Peter," she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Yes, mistress?" I teased, kissing her throat and rubbing myself along her.

She groaned before pushing me away slightly. Ducking under my arm, she slipped out from between me and the tree. Her palms pressed on my shoulder blades, pushing me into the bark she had rested on.

"Trust me," she whispered in my ear, and her hands were on my hips easing my shorts down. Her lips kissed each of my cheeks as I stepped out of them, not sure what she planned, but knowing it would be good. There was a small snap, and it took will power not to turn and see what she was doing. She didn't need to tell me not to look anymore. I'd had more than enough _punishments_ for that. I licked my lips, wondering if it might not be worth a peek.

Before I could make up my mind, my backside burned and loud thwack filled the air. Whatever she was using was broader than the crop, more like the paddle. I groaned and thrust my hips out a little further, my eyes squeezed shut. Another crack and another spank made them circle. I opened my eyes looking under my arm at her.

She was everything I'd ever dreamed. This sight was familiar now. Beth, her mouth spread in a wide grin, implement in hand, tapping it on her palm, counting seconds between strokes. The count was up, and another blow landed on my ass. I cried between clenched teeth this time, arms tightening as I held myself up.

There was more rustling, and when I looked this time, she was naked; her bikini atop my shorts. That was all the time I had before another blow of the frond landed on me. I'd gotten a look at it now, the long stem with green at it's tip. I think she'd hoped that would slap well, but sadly, it didn't. The center was doing just fine though as I thrust toward the tree again with a groan.

"I forgot to make you count," she murmured, her hand on my very hot skin, fingers pointing down, curling under the cheek. "Oh well, next time." She lifted her hand and brought it down again. I thought I would die. Nothing felt as good as her hand.

"Beth," I said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, Peter?" she asked, tipping her head to my eye level, I wasn't standing straight at all anymore. "More?" Another palm on the other cheek. Then she disappeared behind me and her lips replaced her hand. She passed them gently over my skin, barely touching, making me all the more sensitive...

I nearly fell when she hit me next, knees buckling. I felt her hands grasp my hips, hauling them up. "Whoa. Break time," she declared, holding her hips against mine, her skin cool where mine burned. Reaching around she fondled me, and I was able to straighten a little, enough to twist.

She stretched along my back and met my lips with her own. "Thank you for this," she said. "A wonderful Christmas present."

I chuckled. "I'm enjoying it."

She laughed heartily. "I can see that!" She stroked my length again, squeezing harder. My eyes closed and found her ginning again when they opened. She licked a finger and I shuddered, knowing what she planned.

She didn't miss the response and paused. "No?"

I shook my head. "Not no. God, what you do to me..." I bent one elbow and put my head to it against the tree. She grinned and ran that finger down the crack in my ass, making it come up again as I arched. She dropped me to grab my hair, pulling it back as she passed over my asshole again, continuing up my spine.

"Fuck," I groaned.

"As you wish," she said, kissing my ear. Her finger pressed against my asshole, tapping and circling until I relaxed. She released my hair and I rested it on my arm again, breathing deeply.

That did it, and I was suddenly tense again as her finger barely poked in. She held my length again and stroked as she turned her finger slowly, pushing and pulling so slightly.

"Do you like that?" she asked, her finger gone and a palm smacking my cheek in its place, making it sting again. My legs shook, but held. She was quick to start teasing my asshole again.

"Do I make you feel half this good?" I asked, tensing as she pushed a little deeper into me.

"Twice," she said, kissing my back. Licking down my spine, I arched, thrusting into her hand, feeling my balls tucking up into me. I was so close. "You make me fall apart."

"I'm falling apart," I told her, hips rocking back, driving her finger into me, further than I expected. She twisted and I lost it. Pumping against her hand, she held tight, not letting me move and I screamed in frustration.

"I get to say when," she whispered, pulling out slightly. "Now," she declared, sliding her hand over me and pushing in once more.

"God, Beth," I moaned as I blew my load over the bark of the tree.

I turned, once I was steady, and knelt in front of her. "What would you like, mistress?" I asked, ready to reciprocate in any way she desired.

She smiled. "Actually, I think I'd like to find somewhere else." She bent and passed me my shorts. "Walk with me?"

Sighing, I nodded. This was the _discipline_ part that was so hard. The hardest order to follow was the one to wait.

She led me along the trail, taking a fork I hadn't gone down before. "Isn't it lovely?" she asked, pointing to a tree-house ahead. Her fingers wrapped around mine and we stepped nearer. It had a ramp of rungs leading up to it and nothing barring entrance. "It's public," she said as I paused. "It was on my tour - somewhere to escape the rain. Though I don't know why anyone would want to escape it." I followed her up and paused just inside the door.

From the outside, it had been obvious that it was one room, but it wasn't _this_ room. This was Grandma Nettie and Grandpa Dave's trailer, the one they took to Florida before buying the condo. I turned, looking for Beth, but she was gone.

Had I fallen asleep? This had to be some sort of dream.

"No dream, Pete. Vision, maybe." I turned to the familiar voice, and saw Sarah. She had her hands on her hips, looking at me impatiently. "Which means it's short. Pay attention." She snapped her fingers and I straightened.

"Baby or Beth?" she asked.

"What?" What on earth was she asking?

"Baby or Beth," she said again, looking at her nails.

"Are you real?" I asked, still not quite believing. I could smell cigarette smoke, either from her or the trailer. I reached out and touched the filmy black top she wore. It felt real.

"I'm running out of time here, Pete," she said with an exasperated sigh. "That baby starts thinking soon. I'm not asking life or death, just pick one. Baby or Beth?"

"Beth," I said, still not sure what she was asking.

She smiled. "Good boy. Can't wait."

Reality seemed to pop like a bubble and my hand was laced with Beth's again. We stood in the entrance of the little tree-house. I was happy to take a seat. Beth sat beside me, concern etched on her features.

"What's the matter?" she asked, pulling our hands into her lap and stroking mine.

I shook my head at first, not sure how to articulate. "I saw... Sarah." I held my free hand to my head, feeling shaky.

Beth's hand stopped. "Here?" she asked. "Why here?" She looked around the small room, puzzled.

I appreciated that she didn't assume I was crazy, just started looking for what might trigger a memory. "I love you," I murmured, pulling my hand free to hug her tightly.

She sighed into my shoulder. "I love you, too. What did she say?" she asked as I released her.

"Baby or Beth. I don't know why she wanted me to choose, or what I was choosing for. She just said I had to hurry." I brought my head up sharply, remembering clearly. "She said the baby would be thinking soon."

Beth grinned, touching her belly. The pouch there had actually gotten smaller, but would start growing soon. "Thinking," she mused. "Wonder if she'll be as much of a smart-ass as me."

"The world hopes not," I told her kissing her nose. She chuckled. "I picked you."

Her smile softened. "Thank you."

I shrugged. "I have to pick you. I need you."

She leaned into me. "I need you, too. There may be other babies, though I hope nothing happens to this one. There is only one Peter."

"And only one Beth." I kissed her temple and then started down her neck, along her shoulder.

"Follow me." Her voice was husky and I wondered what orders she would have once she led us somewhere private.

"Can't wait," Sarah's voice seemed to say again as we left.


	35. Week 36: Happily Ever After

Kimmydon Week 36

Posting Date: January 26, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Happily Ever After

* * *

**-Beth POV-  
**

I wasn't sure I belonged here. Peter and Gary were watching the improv group do their weekly show, and I was at my old apartment, Jamie's place. I was barely starting to show, but the morning sickness seemed to be easing up, thank God. Still, just sitting here made me a bit queasy.

"So," I asked, having no idea what to say.

"So," Jamie said, looking at me across the table. "How are you?" She smiled, seeming without a care in the world.

"How do I look?" I asked, sitting back in my chair.

"Radiant. God, you pregnant women annoy me." Her expression soured, and she slouched onto the table, arms crossed.

I started. "Women?"

She laughed. "Not Mary! Haha! No! Just a girl at work, Leanne. She's glowing like you."

I let out a small sigh of relief. I had no idea what was state their relationship was in, but I knew, at any moment, either Mary or Brian was likely to come through the door.

"They aren't coming over," Jamie said, not meeting my eye. She spun her mug on the table, empty of tea. I'd long since stopped being surprised when she knew what I was thinking.

"No?" I asked, surprised. "You ask them to stay home tonight?"

She glared at me suddenly, angry. It was my turn to know what she was thinking. "I don't assume they stay here. I don't think you spend every night with one or both of them. Don't look at me like that."

She grinned. "Right, sorry." She sighed and looked into her empty mug. "More tea?" she asked, rising to start the kettle.

"I'm good. Are you?" I asked, not meaning tea, of course.

"Bet, I don't know what to do." I could hear the strain in her voice. "It wasn't until you... and Peter..." She was searching for words, something she usually had as little trouble with as me. "When you weren't with us, I realized how good we were together, you know?" She leaned her back on the counter looking at me. "I mean, you have been such a good friend, but I knew you weren't mine, not really."

I smiled at her. "Not more than, you know, a blood sister."

She laughed now. "Yeah. Remember your mom's reaction when we came back to the cabin?"

I grimaced. It wasn't easy to forget. We'd gone on an extra long walk, but that part had been cleared. They knew we'd packed a lunch and were going around the far side of the lake where there was an actual beach instead of just reeds and docks. It was rocky, but secluded. The beach area was very small, only a few hundred yards long. Just enough for us. We sat, we talked, we ate sandwiches, and we cut open our palms with my pocket knife and gripped each other's hands, swearing to be friends forever.

The cut hadn't really hurt at all, barely a sting, but once open, it started to burn. Jamie's didn't stop bleeding quickly either. We'd both put our hands in the water, but hers just kept bleeding. Eventually, she pulled off her sock and wrapped it for the walk back, but by then we both looked like we'd been to some sort of accident scene with light streaks of blood, diluted with lake water, all over our pants and shirts. Mom had flipped her lid. She'd known off the bat it was me and my knife at fault. Blood makes Mom queasy, and she'd turned green while shrieking at the top of her lungs. Eventually Dad came and took Jamie for stitches; her parents and brothers were out on the lake.

She was fingering the pink line on her palm now. "I still can't believe I cut so deep."

"Me either. It was supposed to be a couple drops," I teased her.

She started to tear up again. "A couple of drops," she said. I was at a loss, having no idea what she was thinking this time. "I'm drowning in a couple of drops. It feels like I'm barely keeping my head above water." She turned to the kettle again.

I stood up and hugged her from behind. "I know it's bad, Jam, but it'll work out. You know that, right?"

She shook her head, not trying to throw off my embrace. "I can't see it, Bet. We can't be happy, not all three of us."

I leaned my cheek on the top of her head, looking into the red notes among the straw colored strands. "Is it my fault?" I asked.

"No," she said, chuckling. "Well, maybe. If you'd been honest with Peter a _little_ sooner, I wouldn't have tried to get together with Brian." She sighed. "I don't know that that would have been better." We both looked at the empty tea cup next to the pot.

"I wish I had an answer for you, Jam. How are they doing?"

She shrugged, throwing off my hug at last. "They're getting along." She suddenly blushed. "They're getting along better than I expected." Her smile was sly now. "Don't tell them I told you."

I laughed. "Mary won't be surprised, and why would I tell Brian?"

She nodded, adding hot water to the teapot. "Why can't my life be simple, like yours."

I rolled my eyes. "My relationship isn't that simple. I have a dead sister haunting the house. Okay not really, but Peter is still carrying her around. My husband..." It was my turn to blush. "has some difficult needs."

Jamie raised her brows. "Do tell."

"As if," I said swatting her. "Or are you going to tell me about Mary in your bedroom?" I looked at her sideways.

"I could. I could tell you how soft she feels, how warm. How her breasts are smaller than mine, but fit my hands better..." She smirked, sure she was making me uncomfortable. She was, a little, but only because she was talking about _Mary._ If she'd been telling me about her coworker, Leanne, it would be different, but I knew Mary. I shook the images from my mind and Jamie snickered.

"Fine," I said flatly, fighting fire with fire. "I have a new toy for Peter. The flogger was too long, not flicking enough, so I have a new cane." I reached into the reusable bag at my feet to pull out the thin stem.

Jamie choked on her tea. "Special needs all right," she said, laughing. "Why isn't this in the fairy tales?" she asked cracking the cane on her scar-free palm.

"Here's where we prove their fairy tales wrong. We find happily ever afters that aren't in the story books." Reaching across the table, I squeezed her hand.

"Happy. Ever after. I'd like that."


	36. Week 37: Visitation

Kimmydon Week 37

Posting Date: February 2, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Visitation

* * *

**-Peter's POV-**

I had been trying not to think about the vision in Costa Rica. I had enough distractions with Beth's odd mood swings. Thankfully, her libido hadn't taken a hit. She complained about being fat, but that was nonsense. Yes, she was bigger and heavier than before, but only a little more than what the baby accounted for, and her breasts... Oh my God, her breasts. She claimed her bras still fit fine, but I was sure they had to be tighter. Their contents definitely looked larger, pushed higher. That came with the pregnancy, all for baby's benefit, but I wasn't going to miss out on some of the fun before the baby came.

My hand cupped one now, sliding up from where it rested on her belly. I had been feeling the baby kicking a few moments earlier. Once Beth had stopped squirming, the baby had started. It had been the same every night this month. Just when Beth settled down to sleep, she'd groan and I'd grin and watch her belly writhe with the life inside it. I could actually _see_ it moving. Not always, but sometimes, a little bulge here, lessening there.

Even the baby had gone back to sleep now, and stroking Beth's breast, I joined them.

* * *

The alley was unusual. I never really went into any of the ones downtown, but this one seemed to be outside a warehouse and someone had set up a small smoking area. I hadn't had a cigarette in five months, and before that in almost a year. I didn't even crave the things. Why would I dream of this?

A woman sat in one of the chairs, a young woman.

"Sarah?" I asked in disbelief.

"Hey, Pete. Ready yet?"

I shook my head, uncomprehending. She just chuckled and shook her head. Holding pack and lighter out to me, she created a need that hadn't been there before. I took one slender, white stick from the pack and put it between my lips.

She smiled more broadly. "Learned to light them yourself, did you?" She exhaled, letting the grey stream circle her head. "You would have had to."

Her words made me stop in the process of holding the lighter to the end of my cigarette, but now I inhaled, pulling the flame through tobacco. I pulled the toxic mixture into my lungs and exhaled in relief. It felt so familiar.

"And no coughing? This _is_ weird." Sarah swept blond curls out of her eyes and leaned back in the chair.

"I am dreaming this time, right?" I asked.

She laughed. "Yep. Shared conscious. Pretty neat. I won't be able to do this much longer though. Baby's going to need her own memories, her own dreams." She took another drag. "Her own rules to break." The grin she gave was pure imp, Sarah to her toenails.

"You're my..." I shook my head sure I didn't understand.

"Well, I am and I'm not. We are more than our genes, more than our environment. You're baby is going to be herself, but I'll be in there, too. Why? You that against seeing me again?" She reached over to punch my arm lightly.

"No," I said quietly, still in shock. "Is she going to look like you?"

Sarah didn't answer right away, looking up at the cloudy sky and smoking. "What do you think?" she asked.

I thought about it. Sarah had looked a lot like Mom, and so did I. "Fifty-fifty?"

She chuckled. "Something like that. I might look like her, but it'll be me. Just imagine, you, a father." She dragged the word out, making me wince. "And you just _know_ I'm not going to be an easy kid. You remember." She puffed again while I groaned.

"But Beth and I aren't Mom and Dad. We aren't going to be nearly as hard on you."

She laughed until she coughed. "You say that now, Pete. What about when your daughter wants to date? Or go to Europe? Or skydive? Or get a tattoo? You are so screwed." She drummed her red shoes on the curb in delight. My face turned more sour at each suggestion.

I shook it off. "It won't be you."

Her humor dampened slightly. "No. She won't be me, just like me. She's going to push all your buttons Pete, just like I pushed Mom's."

"Why?"

She laughed again. "Because she's a kid! That's what they do! Don't worry you get a year of infancy and one or two of the straight-forward screaming before she'll get really smart. Then..." she shrugged and repeated. "You're screwed."

I hung my headm imagining Sarah with Beth's wit. "I'm screwed."

She patted my shoulder. "Awww, poor Peter's going to be a Daddy."

I couldn't help but smile at that. It had been slow coming, but I was getting used to the idea of me holding a baby, me responsible for a child. Now I was in happy daydream stages, thinking about finger puppet shows, playing in the snow, walking at the lake. I'd been warned, by Beth's parents actually, that this would pass back into fear. Fear of colic and sleepless nights, of Beth frayed to the end of her wits and me unable to take enough from her. Fear of seeing Beth in pain. I knew they were right, but I was still enjoying the daydreams.

"How?" I asked. "How did we get you, or you us, or... how does this work?"

"Don't over-think it, Pete. This isn't a math problem. You don't take seven years, carry the sister and have a baby. Mom and Dad never taught us to believe in reincarnation, so why would you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked.

She smiled. "Why wouldn't you. Well, if you do, this is simple. I had to come back sometime, why not here and now?"

"Why not years ago?"

She sighed. "I told you not to over-think it. There aren't any answers for me to give. Maybe this is just a dream. Maybe your daughter will be nothing like me. Hell, maybe you'll have a son. Or maybe, this is your chance to forgive yourself, to protect me like you always wanted to but couldn't. That was supposed to be my job, you know?"

"What?" I didn't understand what she was getting at.

"I was supposed to take care of you. That's why first children are usually the responsible, leader-type." She snorted. "Think Mom had one before me and didn't tell either of us?"

I shook my head, chuckling myself. It was a ludicrous suggestion, but I knew what she meant. She was the one leading me into temptation, as it were, rather than trying to keep me out of it. "But you did take care of me," I told her. "You made sure I met people, that I lived, that I knew life was more than school. You showed me that it's okay to be myself, however much other people might not like it."

"Then why aren't you, Peter?" she asked, meeting my eyes and holding them, her cigarette burning away to the filter. "You aren't a desk jockey."

I blinked, not understanding again.

"I remember watching you in the school play. You loved it, Pete. Why aren't you still doing that, even on the side?"

"Where did you go that night?" It was random and unrelated, but I had to know. It had come out somewhere between remembering the school play and thinking about the improv troupe. All of them had day jobs.

She shook her head. "Did you notice the long sleeves they buried me in?"

I cringed. "You were getting a tattoo?"

"Yes!" she said with a huge smile. "It was my name with two anarchy symbols. Mom must have flipped when she saw it." Her smile vanished. "Actually, I don't think she noticed until the funeral home showed her. Then she picked a different dress."

I nodded slowly.

"Seems pretty stupid now." Sarah snuffed the cigarette and pulled off the cardigan she was wearing to show it to me.

"Dated," I said, earning me another punch in the arm and a toss of the hair. That didn't bother me the way it had.

"You've relaxed, Pete. I'm glad. Enjoy life. Enjoy being a Dad, okay?"

I rose and hugged her. She felt real in the dream. "I will, and I won't let you get _any_ tattoos."

She laughed and kissed my cheek. "We'll see about that!"

The buzzing of the alarm brought me back to reality. The dream disappeared with the last of the darkness. All I remembered was dreaming about Sarah.

Beth was holding her back as she walked across the room for a change of clothes. She stopped, looking at me. "Bad dream?" she asked, sitting down to pull on her pants.

"I don't remember," I admitted. "Something with Sarah though."

She ran a hand through my hair. "I'm glad it wasn't bad, then." Leaning over to kiss me, I ran my hand over the bump that was becoming more prominent by the week.

"I think it's a girl," I said.

She smiled. "A girl today? And what are we calling her?"

"Sarah."


	37. Week 38: Dream in a Jar

Kimmydon Week 38

Posting Date: February 9, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Dreams in a Jar

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

I was roughly the size of the house. Well, it felt that way. I was sitting on the couch, stuck, drifting off while my head rested on Peter's shoulder. My maternity leave had started today. Home alone, all day, and just walking around exhausted me. I was so heavy. Napping had been a lost cause; it was impossible to get comfortable. Instead, I had spent the day folding away the baby clothes and arranging things on the change table. That had killed all of an hour.

Flouncing in the rocker, I had looked at the jar of rolled up dreams. Before leaving the room, I moved them to a shelf that could be seen from the crib.

My eyes drifted shut again, not listening to the news Peter had on. I felt his breath in my hair before sleep claimed me at last.

A small girl sat on the grass, her legs crossed beneath her skirt. Her hair was golden curls and she smiled with bright pink lips at me. Three empty jars sat in front of her.

I took one step, and the sun seemed to set. Everything was red-tinged, though the girl showed no reaction. Her small white teeth, all the same shape, showed now in the smile. I was still a full pace from her, so I went ahead and took a second step.

Darkness closed around us, and I sat across from her. The jars, which I had thought empty, glittered, as though fireflies were trapped inside. She lifted one with her tiny hands, holding it to me.

"Don't drop it," she warned. "The dream will end."

I took the jar gingerly and looked inside. I saw an infant, a baby, a toddler, a young girl - the same one with me now - a young woman, a woman. My breath caught as I watched her grow in the jar.

A sudden stabbing pain gripped me and the jar fell to my knees, shattering and seeming to splash me.

"Beth!" Peter shouted, waking me. "Beth! I think your water just broke!"

He was right. I didn't have time to wonder what the dream meant, only to hope I could remember it, remember the little girl and her jar of dreams.

* * *

_AN: I know it's short, but that was really all the picture needed. Next week I'll detour, but hopefully a birth or a parenting story will come... we'll see what prompts I get!_


	38. Week 39: Green

Kimmydon Week 39

Posting Date: February 16, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Green

* * *

**-Beth's POV-**

I sat back in his chair and put my feet on his desk, crossing my ankles. It felt weird to be in the office in my jeans, but I was only here to deliver a message anyway. Part of it was written on my shoe. I didn't care. Not anymore. My limit was reached and I had a way out. In my hand, my resignation. I wondered what he would say when I gave it, what desperate offer he would make to try to keep me. It wouldn't work. I was done.

I fanned myself with the paper, waiting patiently. One hour ticked by, then two. After three I rose from my perch and walked out to the reception area.

"Are you expecting Mr. Howard soon?" I asked Lacy, his receptionist.

"Nancy! I completely forgot you were waiting. He called to cancel his afternoon, hit the greens." She started scribbling on a post-it. "Here's the course address. He should be three or four holes in by now. I would have come and told you, but..."

"You forgot," I echoed. "It's alright. Thanks."

"See you Monday?" she asked as I pushed the button on the elevator.

"Not likely!" I called as the doors closed, grinning madly.

The course wasn't far away, a large park in the middle of town. How much did the real estate cost, I wondered, trying to tally up a bill. It would be astronomical. No wonder it was members only. I entered the club house holding my resignation.

"I need to deliver this to Mr. Howard. Shall I wait here?" I asked the bartender.

"Nah, go on and find him." He waved me on. As long as I wasn't playing or interfering with play, he didn't care.

My jeans blended in just fine here, but my heels didn't. They kept sinking into the soft soil, and at one point, I pulled them off, walking barefoot in the cool grass. It felt marvelous. I would definitely being doing more of this in my free time. A lot more free time was coming my way. Well, less structured time anyway. Self-employment - blessing and curse. I'd be always working, but I could work anywhere. I could work here. Surveying the green and trees, I thought it wouldn't be a bad place to work, actually.

I found the quartet at hole six. Howard's trophy wife was wearing lemon yellow shorts and white sneakers, preparing for a putt. Honestly, the girl was years younger than me. I had no idea what he saw in her. Probably just C cup. The other couple was familiar as well. Denis Ullman and his wife had attended a number of company functions.

"Excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Ullman, Mrs. Howard. I need to give this to Mr. Howard." I held the letter out to him, grinning.

He took it as his wife continued her putt. She sunk it and cheered, but he didn't congratulate her, didn't respond at all.

"Bad news, Barry?" Mr. Ullman asked.

"Yes, urgent actually. You'll play on without me?" he asked the three, who shared startled looks but nodded. "Come with me, Nancy?" He started walking toward the clubhouse. That was the way out, so I followed. When we'd gone halfway, he asked, "Are you serious about this?"

If I'd had a tail, it would have twitched in pleasure. "Positively. I have enough clients of my own - I'm going independent." I slipped on the shoes still slung over my shoulder as we hit pavement.

He nodded slowly. "I see. We would be very sad to see you go. Not only for the portfolio you just mentioned. You are an integral member of our team." He held open the door to the club house for me and I stepped in alongside him.

I took a moment to regard him as I passed. He only had a handful of years on me, so he wasn't old, and he'd kept in shape. His chest was broad and the tight shirt showed the cut of the muscles beneath. I scolded myself. I'd long since gotten over my crush on Barry Howard. He was an ass that used me, never giving me near the credit I deserved, and I was happily out from under him now. Still, one more thought of running my fingers through his thick black curls ran behind my eyes before I turned to the bar.

The bartender was filling a drink for another member, an elderly gentleman sitting on one of the stools. "Gary," Howard asked, "I'm going to snag one of the private rooms. I have some business that needs attending." Gary nodded and I felt Howard's warm hand close on my elbow, fingers pressing into the joint. I nearly ripped it out of his hold, but he tugged very lightly in the direction he was nodding before letting go.

I huffed but climbed the stairs he had indicated. They rose to a hall of doors, all open, facing onto the course. I heard a click after the door closed behind us. I turned, crossing my arms, still smiling. I was the one in control here. It was a nice feeling.

"What can I do?" he asked. His husky voice was irritated and angry. Not nearly as desperate as I'd hoped it would be. "Make you a partner? Put your name on the door? What is it, Nancy? What do you want?"

I gaped for a moment. Partner? That had never been on the table before. I must have said that aloud because he answered.

"If that's what it takes. You are instrumental, Nancy. We can't lose you." He took a step closer, his nose just above mine for his few inches height. "I can't lose you."

My eyes narrowed. He knew the infatuation I'd had and used his sex appeal to sway me before. It wouldn't work this time. I tapped my foot remembering the message written there. "You can't lose me. You who has a playboy bunny. You who has a receptionist that rarely wears a bra. You who keeps his desk immaculate." I didn't need to say that it was so he could spread women on it. He got the picture.

His hands closed on my biceps, and I did wrench them free.

"Let go of me. You have no right to touch me, Barry Howard. None at all." My throat tightened as my voice ran into higher registers, nearly squeaking. That wouldn't do. I took a deep breath fighting tears that had sprung from no where. There was no reason to be so upset.

"I need this," he said, flicking my forehead with a finger. "I mean, I won't turn down all the rest," he said leering slowly down and up my frame. "This is what I need though." This time he leaned forward and placed his lips gently on my forehead.

He shouldn't know me so well. He did - we had worked together almost a decade, making HowTwo a top name in design.

I melted at the small gesture, the way I wouldn't have if he'd done something grandiose. All thought of the trials he'd put me through were gone from my mind.

His lips brushed mine, breaking me from the moment. "No!" I shouted, backing up. "It's too much. I can't do this anymore. I'm tried of being in the background, being pushed aside. It's time for me to step out from behind you, Barry. I've been in your shadow too long."

"I know," he said softly. "I should have done something sooner, before it came to this." He took my hands now, just holding them. "What can I do?" he asked again. The bitterness from before was gone, and he pleaded, just as I'd hoped to hear. Or as I thought I'd wanted. Looking up at him and seeing the loss painted on his face, made me less sure. "Name it. I'll change the name. I will," he insisted, tightening his grip and pulling me closer again. "HowStan is just as good. Or HowFord." My name was Stanford.

I snickered. "Stanward?" I asked. He rolled his eyes. There was good reason to keep the name, it was already known. "No, I don't want you to change it."

"Then what? You need more time off?" He looked past me out the window. "Maybe a membership here? We can arrange that. I push you because you do this so much better than me, but you could do more of what I do, work from a place of comfort." He was actually working, pitching and feeling Ullman. I'd known him to do it before, but always scoffed. Since I'd had more clients of my own, I understood his tactics better. Learning about the person outside their office helped you better meet their needs.

That had been part of what I was looking for. "More autonomy. I want to make my schedule and choose my projects, not you." I watched him for a reaction. He pursed his lips, but nodded.

"I'll take a new junior to foist that onto. I'll pass them by you first, though, so you can grab what you like," he suggested, watching me.

I nodded, agreeing to that. He sighed in relief, letting our hands drop slightly. I couldn't help but chuckle. He had been more desperate than he let on. It reminded me of the few times we'd played poker. We both had excellent game faces.

Arms wrapped my shoulders, pulling me in under his lifted chin. He squeezed me carefully. "You had me scared, Nancy," he murmured. "You weren't bluffing, were you?"

I shook my head. "I actually made plans for Monday," I admitted with a grin.

He groaned. "Keeping them?"

"You bet your ass. I have a pedi with Grace Newman and tea with Darlene Herter." Both were clients of mine. Ones I had planned to usurp, but now would just field for new projects.

He smiled, following the ball. "You'll let me know how they go?"

"Tuesday?" I asked.

"Monday evening?" he met my eyes again, his blue ones more expressive than I was used to.

"Uh, sure. You bringing Angela?" I asked, thumb to the window where she would be playing with the Ullman's.

He shook his head. "She's... visiting her mother next week. She's..." he sighed. "Why did you let me marry her?" he asked, his head hanging.

I snorted from laughing. "Let you? I think you're quite old enough to choose your own spouse."

"You know what I mean. It was a terrible idea. We have absolutely nothing in common." He grimaced. "Not even sex anymore..." That was whispered.

I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing louder. "I'll see you Monday night, Howard. Where?" I stepped past him reaching for the knob.

He turned, covering my hand to stop me. His other hand he placed palm down against the door beside my head. "I should have married you."

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no... I jiggled the knob, twisting it under his hand, but he'd locked it. I couldn't take this. "No, Howard. Open this door."

"You can call me Barry. I've told you that before." He leaned in closer again. "I'm not trying to keep you, now. You've already agreed to stay." His breath tickled my ear. I closed my eyes, willing resistance my body couldn't seem to muster. Already my stomach had fallen and my knees shook.

Agreeing to stay didn't make it any better. "You can't keep me," I declared. "You can't keep yourself to one woman for more than a week. No wonder Angela is leaving you."

His face hardened. I'd struck a nerve. As soon as he'd said Angela was going, I knew it had been her decision. Even if he was unhappy, he would never put her out. It was too convenient to have someone to go home to. He'd complained about compatibility before, in conversations I did my best to forget after they occurred.

"Please, Nancy. Let me try?" His voice was soft again, caressing. His hand dropped from the door to my cheek. "I will tell you. That's better than I did for any of them, right? And maybe I'll succeed. Maybe having someone like you..."

While his blue eyes bore into mine, I jiggled the knob harder, needing out.

His lips found mine, pressing me against the door. I whimpered slightly, feeling my resolve melt away. Had he been bluffing? Why would he? He had me, as he said. This wasn't for the company. This was for him.

The kiss was chaste, his lips closing on first my top and then my bottom lip before backing away and unlocking the door for me. My breath was still coming in small gasps, preventing me from opening the door immediately.

"Barry?"

"Yes, Nancy?" He asked running his nose along mine.

"If you ever do that again, I'll sue for sexual harassment." I opened the door and fled.

* * *

_AN: Another divergence next week and then I'll have something for you from Beth and Peter ;)  
_


	39. Week 40: Afternoon Delight

Kimmydon Week 40

Posting Date: February 23, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Afternoon Delight

* * *

I opened the door quietly, just in case someone was home. No one should be; I was cutting class. The day was simply too beautiful to spend inside, but I wanted to change into something less... civilized before I went down to the pond to fish a while.

Mom would have a fit if she knew any of it. She'd be livid that I was fishing, dressed like a boy with my hair in a hat. She was trying so hard to break me of all the habits I'd picked up from my father and brothers. She'd wanted a little girl so long that she was disappointed her only girl preferred chasing frogs and throwing footballs to picking flowers and having tea.

I couldn't help it. I did pick flowers, and rocks and mushrooms too. I loved to be outside, that was all. And fishing was a great thing to do while listening to birds, watching the clouds, breathing the fresh air...

Someone was home. I stopped in the entryway seeing my brother's beaten up old converse shoes on the sill. The youngest of my brothers, the only one still home. Jason was a good student, unlike Jimmy and Leon, who had left home to work on oil rigs. I couldn't quite imagine him skipping class. He wasn't alone either. A pair of shoes that might fit my feet sat on the floor, ones with a slight heel - girl shoes. Jason hadn't said anything about a girlfriend. Tiptoeing, I passed the kitchen into the hall.

I heard them before peeking through the crack in the door. The sounds they made were unknown to me. Happy sounds, certainly, but heavy, breath coming in pants and gasps. I had to pass Jason's door to get to my room, and it wasn't shut. Peering in, I froze. He wore only his shorts, and she was down to just panties. They were twined together, legs and arms tangled around one another, kissing. Her fingers clutched his hair while their lips met between groans and moans. His hands were around her waist, fingers slipping into those polka dot panties.

I shouldn't watch this. I should change and run to the water hole, but I was entranced. I had only kissed one boy in my fourteen years. Mitchell was cute, but it had been a dare, not a real kiss, nothing like that. My friends, the ones much less tomboy-ish than me, had all been kissed several times, but I was certain even they had never...

Jason kicked off the shorts that the girl had pushed down. "Damn, Carla," he murmured into her neck. So that was her name. I'd seen naked men many times. With four in the house and one bathroom, it was nearly impossible not to run into one of my brother's standing and peeing. I'd never seen a penis look like that though. Not limp and down-curved, but thick and upright, larger than I had realized it could get. I gasped, and covered my mouth quickly. Of course, I wasn't heard among Carla's gasps and moans. They were going to have sex. I knew the mechanics, but watching it was something else.

"Oh my God!" Carla gasped, pulling her arms across her chest and rolling away from the door. Shit, she'd seen me.

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm gone!" I yelled as I turned and ran for my room. I pulled off my pretty shirt with lace at the collar and nice corduroy slacks, pulling out worn and torn jeans and t-shirt. I hadn't gotten them on though and was standing in my underwear when Jason tapped on the door. He had his shorts on again, but nothing else.

"What are you doing at home?" he asked, not really angry, just miffed. I was glad for that. I loved my brothers. As much fun as it was to tease and play-wrestle, I didn't want any of them angry with me.

"Too nice for school." My head popped through the t-shirt, which dropped past my hips.

"You're getting bigger," he commented, eyes widening a little. I wore a training bra now, my breasts finally coming in, and I had hips, unlike him. He had always been stick straight.

"Yeah," I mumbled, not sure what he was getting at. I sat on the edge of the bed to pull on my pants. "I really didn't mean for you to see me, and I didn't mean to watch either... I just couldn't..." I looked at my hands on my thighs, then shook my head and stood, pulling the denim the rest of the way.

"No harm, no foul. You aren't going to tell Mom and Dad, are you?" he asked, looking sheepish.

I snorted. "As if, and admit I was skipping class?" I pulled my hair through the back of my ball cap. "I am telling them you have a girlfriend, if you don't do it first." I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled.

"I will. Thanks, Nina." He looked over his shoulder. "Damn." He turned and hurried down the hall, but I heard the door closing. Carla had made a run for it.

I was right behind Jason as he punched the door-frame. "I'm really sorry," I said again, peeking from under the brim of my cap.

He sighed. "Unlucky today. She'll forgive us, I hope." He leaned his back against the jamb and punched my arm. I jabbed him back in the ribs. "I'm going to shower. I might meet you at the hole," he said pushing off and heading for the bathroom.

"Cool." I smiled, glad he wasn't mad at me. Stopping at the shed, I grabbed my pole and tackle box.

Leaning against a poplar, I listened to a robin whistling somewhere nearby. My line dragged in the water, but I wasn't using any real bait. Catching a fish wasn't the point today.

In my head, I saw Jason again, only this time, it wasn't him and Carla, it was me and Mitchell. I felt my face hot, thinking about being kissed like that, being naked with a boy, an engorged penis. I nearly jumped out my skin when I heard a twig snap nearby.

"Holy crap, Nina. Something bugging you?" Jason asked, sitting beside me and casting his line. "That's a stupid question," he muttered.

I hunched a little. There had never been anything I had trouble talking about with my brothers. That was how I had learned the mechanics of sex in the first place. Now I was uncomfortable. The longer we sat without talking, the more I relaxed. Finally, I asked about something safer, applications for university.

"Yeah, I haven't decided yet, but I've applied for sciences at the U of A. I can pick a major or switch faculties easily from there." He shrugged. "What about you? Any closer to knowing what you're going to be when you grow up?"

I snorted. "I'm not going to grow up. What's the point of that?" I grinned and saw it reflected on his face.

"Going to find some sugardaddy to look after you?" he asked, laughing.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "No," I moaned, dragging the single syllable out. "I'm going to..." I searched for an answer, "be a hermit. I'll build a shed in the middle of nowhere and hunt for my food."

He laughed harder. "I watched you when you shot that deer. You'd never make it."

I scowled, knowing he was right. Dad and Uncle Joe had let me come along with the boys hunting. They were using bows and arrows, so there was little chance I'd hurt anyone but myself. It was a complete fluke that I'd hit the deer. I mean, I'd seen it and aimed, same as Jason and Liam, but my arrow had been the one to hit the back of the leg and lame the animal. It ran far before we managed to find it and shoot it again, full of fear and pain.

"Okay, not a hermit. I'll think of something."

"Something to give Mom grey hair, no doubt," he said with a snort of his own. "You know you don't _have_ to do boy things with us." It wasn't the first time it had been pointed out to me. "You can be a girl anytime you want to."

I sat a little straighter and took a deep breath. I watched his eyes fly to my chest for a minute. Exactly what I wanted. "I _am_ a girl," I twitched my line, making it skip along the water. "A girl who likes to fish and hike. I'm sure there are boys who like girls like that." I didn't quite look at him.

He chuckled. "There are, and you'll snag one." He flicked the brim of my cap and I grinned at him again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Carla," he said quietly. "We... She..." He stumbled for a while before I shook my head.

"I don't care," I said happily. "You're happy? That's all that matters. If you're just going to jump her and run, though, I am SO telling Dad on you." I glared at him. Leon had done that. It had been Jason who busted him, finding a condom in the car. I never learned what Dad had said to Leon that night, only that he had been grey-faced and quiet for the next week. He could have any number of girls now, but I was sure he didn't.

Jason looked scared. He probably didn't know what Dad had said either, but he'd seen the result. "I'm not!" he shouted, jumping to his own defense. "We're just... new."

I furrowed my brow. "Really? You do that... new?" I didn't really know how to ask. "Don't you have to... I don't know, go on a few dates or something?"

He shook his head. "Not always. It's hard to explain, Nina. Sometimes, the moment gets away on you." He turned red in the face and I looked back to the water, twitching my line again. "I mean, when she started touching me... I would do anything to keep her from stopping." He looked to me and must have seen the lack of comprehension on my face. "Um... how about, like running downhill." I nodded once, following that. "You can fight it, and step heavy, or you can let your feet go and..."

I smiled, thinking about gravity pulling my down a hill. It felt so much better than the jerky walking to try to go slow. Nodding, I twitched my line again. "I think I get it." His jaw dropped. "I don't _really_ get it, obviously," I said, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. I continued twitching my line, a little irritated. Did he really think I'd...

"Have you had sex, Jason?" I asked, suddenly very curious.

His line sunk low and he began coughing. "What?"

"Have you already had sex?" I asked, taking advantage of the return to my comfort zone. "I mean, it's pretty obvious you were about to with Carla. Would that have been your first time?"

He was bright red, and I didn't think it was from coughing. "Yes. I've... gotten to second before. Do you know-"

"Yes," I cut him off. "Touching." I shook my head.

"Um, yeah. I've done that with girls before." He wasn't comfortable anymore. Suddenly he broke the awkward silence with a heated, "Please tell me you haven't..."

I punched him, hard. "No. I've been kissed exactly once, on a dare. I think the boys still see me as a pal," I admitted, slightly sullenly.

He nodded. "That's the problem with being a tomboy. It's a benefit, too," he added with a grin. "Once they do notice, you'll have your pick. They'll all know you, and know you're cool."

I grinned, too. "Soon," I said, flicking the line again. "I caught a boy watching me walk to class the other day." It was Preston. I'm pretty he looked at anything with hips, which I definitely had now. I only wished Mom's thighs hadn't come with them. I missed my skinny legs.

"Who?" Jason nearly growled. I laughed at him. He would be the only one left to 'defend my honour' when the time came, and apparently he planned to take his job seriously. I was still laughing when my rod nearly pulled out of my hands.

"Shit, I've got something." I started pulling and reeling, Jason encouraging me and leaning over the shore of the creek. He began laughing. That couldn't be good.

I pulled back one last time and an old shoe came out, nearly hitting Jason in the nose. Frowning at him and the shoe, I untangled my hook.

"We better get home. Mom'll have supper on soon." Jason reeled in his line and put his rod on his shoulder, taking my hand.

"Are you mad at me at all?" I asked as we walked.

He chuckled. "No. I'm kinda glad actually. I really should introduce her Mom and Dad first." He looked at his feet, the same beaten up old Converse. "I'm not sure I'm ready."

"Looked like you enjoyed running down the hill," I teased with a grin.

"Shut up, you," he said, glaring at me. "Running down isn't always the best idea, as you know."

I hung my head slightly, abashed. I'd nearly broken my leg running down a wooded slope, tripping on a root. I had face-planted and flipped once, leading to the small scar on my jaw. "It was still awesome," I told him.

He sighed. "Yes, it was."


	40. Week 41: Donovan

Kimmydon Week 41

Posting Date: March 1, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Donovan

* * *

**Beth POV**

Straight back, sun shining on red-brown curls, his head just reached the branch he examined. I rocked Sarah as I watched him. It seemed ages since I'd seen Donovan, but he was at my wedding just a year ago. He didn't often come to the lake and I spent a lot of my maternal leave here, enjoying the lake and fresh air. Sarah was enjoying it to, wriggling on her back in the grass when I wasn't holding her.

"What ya looking for?" I called loudly. The tree he hung onto was yards down the shore.

He turned, green eyes finding me and brightening. "Hey, Beth. Checking for a mark I left here." His voice was half lost in the wind and the chop of the lake. He descended from his perch and strode toward me. "This is Sarah?" he asked, looking at the cherub in my arms.

Her blue eyes were closed in sleep, but she was very pink, tiny fingers wrapped tightly around one of mine. Nodding, my hair brushed her cheek, making her face scrunch up and lip quiver.

"She's adorable." He ran a gentle hand down Sarah's cheek and the other hand popped out of her blankets to seize it. His she popped into her mouth, eyes opening a crack as her tiny mouth tried to tease milk from the digit. "Um... good luck there, kid." His voice was light and nearly laughing.

I chuckled too, pulling her hand away from her mouth. She quieted and stilled again, asleep once more.  
"What were you looking for?" I asked again, gesturing to the tree.

Donovan shrugged, ducking his head a little. "Remember the summer after you graduated?" he asked.  
I tried to recall. Every summer was spent with days at the lake, if not full weeks. I tried to find a job after graduation, but had zero luck, instead, fishing with Uncle Terry most often. Jamie had gotten a job, her first of several in the service industry, so she wasn't with us. It hadn't been a warm summer, lots of rain.

"Yeah, I remember some."

"Do you remember a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes?" My eyes narrowed, this wasn't some strange connection to Sarah, was it? No, she was dead by then. I was seeing ghosts everywhere now.

"Nope," I admitted.

"Well, her name was Cheryl and we used to meet at that tree, then run somewhere dry," he said with grin.

"Ah, I see. You hoping to find her?"

He nodded sheepishly. "I leave notes there, my number. I keep hoping she'll come back and see it. Give me a call. She... I miss her."

He was so pink at this point I almost didn't want to know what they'd done together eight or ten years ago. It must have been good.

"I'll keep an eye out. If I see any blondes hanging around, I'll make sure they know to call you."

He laughed. "Thanks, Beth. You're out here all the time, are you?"

I nodded. "This summer anyway. Have to go back to work come winter. I'm not really looking forward to that." I kissed Sarah's head and wished I could walk in the woods with her forever.

"Well, take care of yourself. I should head in. I didn't bring anything out with me to eat." He started to pass me to the front of the cabins where the cars were parked.

"Why don't you come in, Don? Peter will be coming for supper after work. I can make for you, too." I opened the door of my parents' cabin with one hand.

"Thanks, Beth. I'd like that. Can I hold her?" he asked as soon as we were inside, and I passed the sleeping baby across, noticing how easily he held her.

"I remember when Jesse was this small," he mused, smiling. "Thanks again. For supper and watching out."

"Anytime, Don."


	41. Week 42: Life, the Universe & Everything

Kimmydon Week 42

Posting Date: March 8, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Life, the Universe and Everything

* * *

Notebook in hand, I took my usual lunchtime post on the bench in front of City Hall. My glasses had slid down my nose, again, and I pushed them back into place. Honestly, even with a hundred adjustments, they'd never fit properly. I just had too pointed a nose, a slope too steep for anything but tape or glue to ignore.

Who would be my subject today? I spent every lunch hour watching one person, usually also outside, enjoying their lunch, and inventing some glorious past or present for them. Some were hilariously inglorious. One time, I wrote that the round bald man buying a hot dog on the corner was actually a former Luchador, Mexican wrestler, who had cheated on his wife and been forced to go into hiding. That was a good one. Where did I put his story?

I flipped back through pages covered in scrawling cursive. Someone blocked my light for a moment and I twisted a little until he passed.

"What ya writing?" someone asked beside me. I slipped right off the edge of the bench onto my ass. My glasses slipped to the tip of my nose as I did, and the traitor pen rolled under the bench, right behind one scuffed up sneaker. Who wore sneakers with those nice pants? My eyes lifted to see a younger man sitting on the bench. He had dark sunglasses and clean cut black hair. His burgundy tie was hanging loose on his blue shirt, unbuttoned halfway to reveal a band T-shirt. My roommate would probably know the group, but I didn't.

"Nothing," I muttered, moving to my hands and knees to retrieve the errant pen. He shifted his foot to cover it. I scowled up at him. "Can I have my pen, please?"

"Only if you tell me what had you grinning and flipping pages a moment ago. You've got something good in that notebook." He grinned, white teeth standing out against tanned skin.

Grumbling I brushed off my knees and settled back on the bench beside him. It couldn't have been a moment, but now his arm stretched across the back of it. Someone thought highly of himself. Pushing my glasses up, I resumed my flipping. I kept darting my eye to the hot dog stand. That guy came every couple of days. Opening to the right page, I handed him the book and pointed to the hot dog stand. As if on cue, Luz Maria Diaz de Leon de Vaca came out of the building across the street.

"This is his story."

As the nameless, intrusive, and way too stealthy guy skimmed the page, I retrieved my pen from under his foot. I resumed scanning the block for my latest subject. He started to chuckle and I looked at him again.

"That's good. You do this often, then?" He put his arm on the back of the bench again, making me uncomfortable.

"Most days, yes. I like to write in my spare time. Sometimes I'll plot out whole stories from these." I turned to a clean page before setting my chin on my hand, not wanting to lean back.

His elbows came to his knees as he struck a similar pose. "What are we looking for?"  
At this angle I could see though the side of his glasses to his eyes. They were a still shaded, but seem to gleam with mirth.

"You're very pushy, you know that? A subject. Someone I haven't written." I took the opportunity to lean back. I noticed his line of sight stayed on my knee for a moment before turning to the street again.

"I've been told. I figure, you're not going to get what you want by stepping around it." He leaned back putting his arm around me again. "Her," he said, nodding his head. "The one in the heels. Done her?"

The woman wore a knee length black skirt and sheer black blouse over camisole. Her honey coloured curls fell to her shoulders and were pinned up on one side.

"Nope." Narrowing my eyes on those heels, I put pen to paper.

_Grateful to finally be out from under his thumb, she donned the one thing she knew he couldn't resist. She was walking over his heart, stabbing it with one sharp heel as she departed. He had no control over her anymore. His contract, and hers, was finished. She would be a free agent from now on, finding her own clients, deciding what she charged, proving she was worth every penny._

"She's a whore?" he asked.

I started, scrapping a long inked furrow down the page. "No! She's a consultant." I shook my head at his implication and started making notes in the margin while they were fresh. 10 yr term, ad business, jr intern makes big, lands deal he only dreamed of

"Oh. Just.. y'know, under his thumb, controlling..."

"Who are you?" I asked, unable to bear it any longer.

"Dan. You?"

I didn't answer, bending over my page again. I heard a rustle and peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He had my purse!

"What are you doing?" I grabbed for it, but he held my licence and let me have the purse.

"Jennifer Chase. Oooh, Chase, I like that."

"Give me that." I snatched it back.

"You're only a year older than me. Shame I didn't grow up here, I could have been your prom date." His smile was huge, and I had the unusual urge to slap it. I wasn't a violent person, and without siblings, there were few people who had aggravated me as much as Dan did.

"Excuse me," I said, slipping my notebook and pen back in the purse and rising.

"Oh, you're going to want this, too," he said passing over my phone. My jaw dropped. Recovering slowly, I narrowed my eyes.

"Enjoy your weekend," I said icily, taking it from his hand. I could feel his eyes on me the whole way back to my office. Honestly, who was he?  


* * *

"Come on, Jenn. You can bring your notebook and be boring, just come with us." My roommate was tugging on my arm as I fought her pull.

"No, Marla. I don't want to go," I whined. I was so comfy in my sweats. I didn't want to get dressed.

"You don't have to change much, just a different shirt. You'll have fun, I promise. Lots to see. You need to get out of this house!"

I couldn't argue with her there. I'd stay glued to the couch for the whole weekend if she brought food.

With a loud sigh, I relented and she yanked me right off the sofa. "Okay. Let me brush my hair."

"Take your time. Denise won't be here for another fifteen to pick us up. It's just the lake, not a club or anything." She followed me into the bathroom and cleaned my glasses while I fixed my ponytail.

"Thanks," I said, peeling off my sweatshirt and taking them back. Hands on hips, I faced my closet. The lake. What to wear to the lake? I yanked a blue button down off its hanger.

"That's nice," Marla said, appraising. Then she giggled. "Cottontails have to stay home."

I laughed too, swapping for a pair of sneakers. "You're sure this is okay?" I was used to dressing for the office, but didn't really go out with Marla and her friends much.

She smiled. "Yep. I mean, I'm not dressed up, am I?" She wasn't in faded jeans and a t-shirt.

"Which band is that?" I asked, pointing. "I saw someone wearing one of their shirts yesterday."

"Really? They're local," she said pulling it down and looking at it. "I only bought it because the logo was great." It was an office tower with all the windows breaking, bursting out. "They're the Sonic Wave. Get it, blowing out the windows?"

I nodded. We both turned at the door buzzer. Marla ran to the keypad first, pressing the button and calling, "We're on our way."

Grabbing my purse I followed her out.

The day was gorgeous. The sun was bright and high, warm enough that I wished I hadn't worn sweatpants. Sitting on picnic bench, I soaked rays while injecting my own little tidbits into the girls' conversation.

"Hello, ladies." The male voice made me open my eyes and sit up. There was a group of five young men approaching. The other girls seemed to shift, trying to get a better look, but I just cringed and reached for my purse. I wasn't going to be of any interest to these guys, I might as well do something productive.

"Seems I'm done chasing," one of them said, and my head whipped back to the group. There was Dan, shirtless, approaching. I groaned and covered my face with my hand.

"What?" Marla whispered.

"Remember me telling you who '42' was?" The jerk had put his number in my phone.

Marla snickered. "That's him," she said still quietly. "Hubba hubba." She couldn't tease me more as he was quickly drawing closer.

"I'm starting to think you're following me," I complained, crossing my arms.

He laughed loudly. "With that pale skin? I'm here all the time. It's you following me, I think." He put a hand to my arm below my sleeve and it was hard not to flinch.

"Who are your friends, Dan?" one of the others asked.

When he turned we all got a look at the wings tattooed on his back. They were very nicely done. I wondered if they'd hurt. "Don't know the others, but the very literate Jennifer Chase is here."

There were a couple of chuckles, so he must have mentioned me to them. He really had some nerve. Rather than respond, I continued what I had been doing and pulled out my notepad and pen.

"Look out! She's armed!" one of the other men teased. I ignored him.

Dan piped up, "Hey, don't joke about that. She's deadly with that thing. Next thing you know, you'll be the mail room boy who can't get his shit together and never has a girlfriend."

I couldn't help it, I laughed at that.

"Hi, I'm Denise, this is Marla..." The other girls started introducing themselves, but Dan took their vacated seats to lounge beside me, reading over my shoulder again.

"You want something, 42?" I asked. "What is that anyway? A jersey number?"

He put a hand to his chest. "I'm appalled. You don't know what 42 is?"

I scoffed, "A way to make sure you're at the top of my call list?"

"No, Miss Priss," he said, smirking. "I am the answer to life, the universe and everything."

I'd been had. "Douglas Adams. Well played. So you're not only pushy, you're full of yourself, too." He still rubbed me in every kind of wrong way, but damn if he wasn't starting to grow on me.

"Yeah, well, I was going to take you to heaven with me. One day you'll know what you missed," he said holding the back of his cap and walking out on the dock.

_The knight, having driven the princess to the point of exiling him from her kingdom, returned as the last of her guard fell to give her the ingredient she needed to cast her protective spell._

"How did you know where to find it?" she asked.

"I'm good like that."


	42. Week 43: Colorful

Kimmydon Week 43

Posting Date: March 16, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Colorful

* * *

What was that ground squirrel doing? I'd seen them eat all sorts of crazy things, but sipping from a straw? It was ludicrous. Still, he looked happy. He was getting whatever he was looking for from the bottom of the clear glass bottle. I'd tried to find my answer at the bottom of a bottle - long ago, and I didn't remember much of it.

I did remember waking up on my bed - head at the foot, feet on my pillow - with no idea how I had gotten there. I did remember waking up in strange rooms, strange houses, with strange people. All very friendly, luckily, all ready and willing to help me if I needed it.

I suppose, in a way, I did find what I was looking for in a bottle, or near one.

A shadow moved and the squirrel bolted. "How long you going to sit out here?" Deidre asked, putting her arm around my shoulders.

I turned to her, kissing her lips. "Just long enough for you to find me."

Nothing had shocked me as much as waking up in bed with another woman, the taste of her still on my tongue. I still couldn't remember the first night we spent together, but brunch the next morning, and dinner that night, and breakfast the day after that were all clear as day. She hadn't let me crawl as far into the bottle again, and she'd kept me talking until all of the past ten years dripped from my lips and streamed with the tears from my eyes. She held me, stroked me, and showed me that a woman's touch could be just what I needed, perhaps what I'd been missing in failed relationship after failed marriage after failed relationship. It was months before we made love a second time, but I was fully aware and fully participating.

No longer lost and alone, I had discovered what was missing in me. Not Deidre, she was a dear friend and partner - an addition to myself, not a substitute. I'd found the part I kept giving to men, the part I kept relinquishing, the part that had been smothered so long ago. Deidre and I nourished it, brought it back to life, until I was complete, on my own. I could be me again, without her. But I was so much more with her.

Hugging her tightly, I tucked my head under her chin, smiling. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Penny. I'm so glad I found you."


	43. Week 44: Road Trip

Kimmydon Week 43

Posting Date: March 23, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Road Trip

* * *

_Mounting his steed, he turned to his princess._

"Are you sure you won't join me? The tournament is sure to be entertaining. I plan to massacre the competition." The knight's teeth gleamed in a ferocious grin.

"I will go no where with you. Go, come back with a prize. I may even let you in the gate."

Her sharp tongue availed her none as he leaned from the saddle. "If you came, I would give you the best prize of all."

She took several steps back, astounded by his temerity, appalled, and yet intrigued. This knight would be the death of her. 

* * *

"What do you mean you want me to go with you?" I asked, adjusting my glasses on my nose, again. I was going to get surgery, dammit.

"I mean, Chase, I want you to see me play." Dan, as always, took well over half the bench, all but forcing me to lean into him.

Shaking my head, I continued to doodle in my notebook. Not drawings, words. God, I hoped he wasn't reading. Chocolate, mocha, burnt sienna. I was trying to pin down his skin tone. I needed mental help.

"Come on. I mean, do you even _have_ plans this weekend?" I nearly ground my teeth. He'd been meeting me here for lunch since our run-in at the lake. He seemed to think it meant he should take me under those tattooed wings or something.

"No, I don't have plans. That's not the point. I don't do concerts," I glared at him and he pushed my glasses up my nose. Goddamn the things. I pulled them off and stuffed them in my bag harshly.

"Whoa. Don't get your panties in a bunch. We'll have a gig in town again soon. I just thought you might like to get away. It's only an hour out, but it's into the mountains." He'd moved so that arm on the back of the bench was now around my shoulder and his hand gripped my bicep.

"Why?" I must have asked him a dozen times. He knew why what. Why me? Why not give up? He still gave me the same annoying answer.

"42."

"Shut up!" I yelled, not for the first time. He infuriated me. He made me want to scream and pull that dark hair out by the roots. That thick, black hair that reflected the light... No! Gah, he'd fried my brain so completely, I couldn't even write properly anymore.

Marla had a solution to that. After I'd thrown a pencil at the wall, she'd delivered it dead-panned. "Fuck him. Get it out of your system and his." She'd scooped another spoonful of Rocky Road in her mouth to punctuate the thought.

At the time, nothing could have been more appalling. Now, with his arm around me, his eyes locked on mine... it didn't seem as crazy. Maybe it was all in the chase for him. Maybe if I just gave over, I'd have a night to remember and he'd finally leave me alone.

Nope. Not happening. I had standards, and if he couldn't meet them, he wasn't getting past the door. I grabbed my bag and rose to my feet.

"You're leaving already?" he asked, disappointed. "You usually stay until one."

"Projects, deadlines, things your band doesn't have." It was a pinprick, but I'd only managed to land a few barbs.

"Wait. Think about it?" He was clutching my hand now, holding it in both of his. "Please?"

This was new. He'd badgered, whined and needled - he'd even tried blackmail once. He'd never pleaded. His voice was soft, something I'd never heard before.

"Um. Yeah. I'll think about it."

His smile nearly knocked me over. Then it turned cocky again, making it easier to go.

_One night wouldn't be so bad, right?_

It turned out he, and two of the guys with him at the lake that day, _were_ Sound Wave, the band on the shirts Marla and Dan had been wearing. They were indie and alternative, and although the recordings sounded good, I wasn't a music connoisseur, so I couldn't have said much one way or the other. I was being honest about not liking concerts. They were loud, crowded and the lighting drove me nuts. I'd been to exactly two in my life - and one was a children's entertainer.

I wasn't off the hook, though. He called that night.

"So? Thought about it?"

I sighed heavily. "Please tell me it's not in some dive." I hung my head and Marla laughed from the other room.

"Well, it's a bit of a dive," he answered honestly. "But we're going acoustic because it's such a small place." That was a plus, not screaming loud. "It's quaint. You can write all about the bartender and his habit of hitting on Cougars." I could hear his grin.

"What time?" I asked.

Marla's head poked around the corner, brow raised.

"I'll pick you up at three. We'll have some time to look around and get food before we lug our stuff into Dino's."

I cringed. "Dino's? Is he the one that hits on Cougars?"

Dan laughed. "Yep. You'll like him. He's creepy."

"Great," I muttered. "And how long do you expect this... gig to last?"

"You mean what time will I bring you home?"

"Yes." The word was flat, cold. I'd get that idea out of his and Marla's head. She snickered and left.

"It'll be early morning, but if you really want me to, I'll take you home. Fuck off, John." That was one of his band mates. "So, was the address on you licence current?"

"Yes," I said through clenched teeth. He would remember.

"That's good. Sadly I didn't get to write it down."

I laughed.

"Please?" he asked. "Don't make me call Marla and ask her."

He would, too. He had gotten her number that weekend at the lake, just by asking. I gave him the information.

"Wow, that was easier than I expected. You aren't going soft on me, are you, Chase?"

I slunk lower into the couch. "No," I said sullenly.

"Good! I'll see you Saturday." I hit the call end and threw my phone across the room.

"I'll give him 42... 42 bruises!"

Marla laughed again. "You are so silly. Give him 27."

I furrowed my brow. What was she getting at? She didn't tell me, just left the room again. She was going to start driving me as crazy as Dan did.

Still, I needed her help. "Marla?" I leaned in her doorway. "Help me pick something to wear?"

She laughed but obliged. Her fashion sense, while not haute couture still kicked the ass of mine. I took the long sleeved shirt happily. The skirt though...

"Where did I get this?" I asked, staring at it.

She shrugged. "It's in your closet."

I held the tiny black scrap up to myself, noting it covered me decently, if only just. Marla rolled her eyes and dug in a drawer. "They're no worse than these." She held out my favourite pair of cut-off jeans. They were as short as the skirt, I supposed. "Wear them. You can change before the show," she suggested. "You aren't expecting make-up help or anything, are you?"

"No, I can manage," I grumbled, tossing both on the bed before falling there myself and looking up at the map I had pinned on my wall. I didn't travel a lot, but it gave great ideas for exotic locations. I looked over at the ridges that represented the Himalayas.

* * *

_The knight stumbled, his armor rusting where the frost had eaten away at it. He threw a wrapped bundle down. "There. There is your jewel. Told you I'd get it."_

The princess unwrapped it carefully. There was blood on the cloth. "What happened to it?"

The knight was divesting himself of armour in a series of clangs. His feet, now free, were obviously bandaged, and he flopped in a chair, sighing. Many pieces of shiny metal still covered him. "Nothing happened to it," he said snidely. "Something terrible happened to the sorcerer who had it though. Tried to bring a mountain down on me. Like that would work." He scoffed and threw another chunk of armour to the floor. "Think you could get someone to stoke this?" His gauntlet was pointed at the hearth before being dropped to the ground.

"Perhaps. Are you cold?" she asked, eyeing the pile in distaste.

"It was a snow covered mountain," he grumbled.

* * *

I woke with the sun bright in my eyes, groaning. The story had been coming so well, I'd stayed up into the wee hours typing it into my computer. Of course I was nothing like the snooty frigid princess and he was even _more_ insufferable than her knight, but it was fun to write.

Rolling, I checked the clock. Crap, it was one already. I sprang up and hit the shower, nearly running into Marla.

"I was starting to worry," she said dryly.

I didn't answer, but started the shower, pulling out my loose tail of hair while peeing. Under the stream of water, I took a few deep breaths. He wasn't coming for two hours. Granted, I also hadn't eaten anything yet, but I could do this. Food was the next thing I took care of, with a bowl of Cheerios and the last of Marla's coffee.

"How do you drink this?" I asked, choking it back.

"It's better fresh," she answered.

I scowled, knowing better than to touch that remark. It was true after all. How long had this sat in the decanter? I peered into the mug and tried not to think about it.

An hour later, my hair was dry and straightened. I didn't have time to touch up my roots, but I didn't think they were too bad. Why had I decided bleaching was a good idea, anyway? It did set off my eyes... Those were not behind glasses now. I'd put in my contacts after the coffee, as soon as I could open my eyes wide enough to get the damnable things in. Surgery - it was the only answer. Still blinking more often than I normally would, I was putting on mascara; the rest of the make-up, sans lipstick, was already in place.

A knock at the door almost made me poke out my eye.

"You expecting someone?" I asked Marla, who couldn't hear me over her music. Sighing, I trotted to the door.

Dan stood there, dark tinted glasses reflecting me in my torn button down and tiny cutoffs. Oh fuck. I slammed the door and ran for my room.

"Chase!" he yelled, but I didn't come out again until I was dressed, and that didn't mean tiny skirt or cutoffs. They were comfy as hell, but showed way too much leg for how he looked at me. He was standing in the doorway still, but his glasses were gone. No, they were in his hand, one lens shattered.

"Oops," I said sheepishly.

"Really. You couldn't just invite me to sit and wait for you? I wouldn't have minded. I can occupy myself for a minute or two. It's not like you were naked or anything." He stepped in and flounced into one of my chairs. His arrogant attitude took care of any guilt I might have had. "I liked the shorts, by the way. Why'd you change?" His eyes seemed to dare me to put them back on.

"Seemed too cool out."

He barked a laugh. "Scared I'd try to feel them up? Or you forgot to shave?"

Marla came out then. "The first. She was going to wear them. You opting for the skirt now?"

I cringed, remembering the tiny black skirt. "Right... I'll change back."

Waiting for laughter behind me, I was surprised when there wasn't any. Instead, there was quiet chatter.

"Is she always like that? I mean, I know I come off strong, but she doesn't bend for anything."

"That's Jenn. She doesn't take anything she can't give just as well. Especially bullshit." I could hear Marla's satisfied grin as I pulled the shorts back on. The skirt went into the bag with my other shoes. I would wear Adidas for the afternoon.

I tried not to flinch as Dan's eyes stared at my painted toes. At least I'd gotten a pedicure last weekend. Obviously there hadn't been time to get one today.

"Aren't you a little early?" I asked, tapping a toe.

"A little," he shrugged. "Hoped to get lucky."

Marla barked a laugh. "Keep hoping."

That made me grin. "I have a little more time then?" I hadn't gotten to my lips or brushed my teeth yet.

"A little," he said, not taking his eyes off me.

Keeping my head high, I turned for the bathroom, sure I could feel his eyes on my ass. Knowing he was waiting, I took my time, lining my lips carefully after scouring my teeth. When I finally poked my head out, I ran to him. He had a pen and was writing. He was writing in _my_ notebook!

"Excuse me!" I roared in indignation, thinking he was editing my work. Snatching the paper away left a dark scar on the lines. It was a fresh page. "Oh, sorry." I handed it back to him, recognizing the lyric nature of the short lines. It wasn't anything I would write.

He laughed at me. "No sweat. You ready?" he asked looking at the bag I had put on my shoulder.

"Um, yeah. You want that page?" I asked, planning to pop the notebook in the bag.

He shrugged, handing it to me. "I know where to find it."

Trying not to grind my teeth, I put the book away.

He held the door for me, something I hadn't expected and then opened the passenger door of the van. This was because he had to unlock it, I realized as I got in.

"I'm glad you were nearly ready," he said pulling away from my place. "I forgot I have to pick the others up." He stopped in front of a dilapidated house and tooted his horn. He left me staring after him as he exited the van. I caught on quick once he opened the back doors. John's head poked in, setting a drum down.

"Hey, Jenn," he said smiling. He was replaced by Eric, who also nodded in greeting, setting several smaller items - cymbals? - next to the drum. The procession continued until the back of the van was quite full.

"I thought you were playing acoustic?" I asked Dan as he hopped back into the driver's seat.

"We are. That's why you have a seat. The amps go there." He pointed to Eric who smirked.

"And I go there." He pointed to my seat.

"Oh," I managed to mutter.

John snorted. "Like you wouldn't have just picked her up in your car."

I'd worried a little about the hour drive, but no one seemed surprised that I pulled out my notepad once they started discussing the set list for the show.

Not only had Dan started a new page, it wasn't the next page. Opening to where I'd left off, I could just keep on going. That was good. The princess needed to teach her champion some manners. He had some, those chivalry dictated, but he pressed even those as far as the rule of honour would allow.

"Chase," Dan said, causing me to lift my head suddenly from my book.

"I have a first name," I said irritably.

"Yeah, but you don't answer to it. We're here."

I looked up and saw the mountain rising in the distance. "Where is here?" I asked, confused. We were in the middle of empty highway, but he was pulling over.

"Trust me," he said with another smile. "I have all the answers, remember?"

Biting my tongue, I did get out. "You know it's not every man that can take me out of the city on a first date," I muttered, stomping after him through brush, scratching up my legs in a few places.

"I don't mind being the exception," he replied with another grin. I sometimes wondered if he had any other expressions. Well, he had scowled after I broke his glasses, and his leer was definitely a different grin. John and Eric disappeared on the other side of the Highway.

"Where are they going?" I asked.

Dan glanced over his shoulder. "To take a piss."

That was my hero. "So where are we going then? I don't need to pee yet," I answered snidely.

He chuckled. "Don't want to bare that pale bottom to me?" His laughter wasn't malicious, only slightly infectious. I huffed a small chuckle. "We are going to that little clearing there. I wanted to read something to you."

He pulled my notebook from his back pocket.

"How do you do that?" I cried indignantly. He'd palmed my licence, my phone, my bracelet, now my notebook. I didn't even remember putting it down. Of course, now I knew that was because I never _had_ set it down.

"Practice," he said coolly. "Sit with me?" he opened his arms and splayed his legs as though expecting me to sit in the V they made. I sat beside him, crossing my arms. The grass tickled my legs and I wasn't positive ants weren't crawling on me. I didn't really like being on the ground much. Picnic tables and park benches were much better.

He opened my book to his writing and began to read. He described someone aloof, someone scared, someone solitary. He wasn't singing, but as he got further into the poem, the words seemed to pick up a natural cadence. I hummed to it.

He grinned. "You have a nice voice, Jennifer."

I blushed a little. "No wonder you call me Chase. My friends call me Jenn."

"And am I one of your friends, Jenn?" he asked leaning over the arm that separated us, his nose very close to mine.

"No, but you can call me Jenn anyway. You can be the exception," I teased.

"I swear to God, Chase, you push one more button..." Suddenly I was atop him, not in his arms and prostrate against him - that might have killed me with shame and shock - but on his feet, in the air, dangling. I started to kick my legs, trying to get down, and he caught my flailing arms and wiggled his toes, which were jammed into my ribs.

"No! I'm tick..." The word was lost in the peals of giggles erupting from me. They were echoed by his own as I tipped even further forward, our foreheads colliding in an audible thump. He rolled to his side then, letting me fall in the grass. I rubbed the spot that would probably bruise, still laughing.

"I push _your_ buttons? I have never had anyone drive me to violence like you do." For good measure, I punched his bicep twice. He cupped a hand over it, wincing between chuckles.

"Yes, you push my buttons. Every time you flip your head, look up your nose, god, push up your glasses - nice contacts by the way - it makes me want put a pin to the balloon of your head."

My mouth opened and closed indignantly. "I do not have a swelled head!" I argued, sitting up.

"Well, you have a high opinion of yourself," he retorted.

Did I? I didn't think so. I usually thought I was average, or less than average.

"I mean, what's so wrong with me?" He sat up beside me, a slight pinching to his eyes I didn't recognize. "Really? Am I that bad?" His voice pained me slightly.

"No," I whispered. "You just..." He just drove me crazy.

A caterpillar started crawling on my bare leg. Tiny legs tickling like fine hairs, moving slowly up. "Ack!" I screamed and jumped, shaking my leg. "Get it off! Get it off!"

Dan was startled at first, jumping up himself. Then he started to laugh at me. "Hold still! I can't get it if you don't hold still." His hand kept brushing my leg and making me jump again. "It's gone, Jenn. It's not there. Settle down." His arms were around me as I convulsed, fighting the urge to vomit.

"Go-good," I stammered, shivering. "I HATE bugs."

"I would have never guessed," he said dryly.

It occurred to me then that I was hugging his neck and practically climbing onto him. Snapping back, I apologized.

He chuckled again, shrugging. "No problem. There's another song, they guys don't think it's ready, but I'm squeezing it in tonight anyway. You're going to love it." He nudged my arm with his, starting us back for the van. John and Eric were just hopping in the sliding door.

"I guess I never thought of you as a writer. I don't know why. Lyrics and poetry are different from prose, but difficult, too."

Dan grinned. "Does that mean you liked it?"

Shrugging I said, "I'm not much of a music buff. I don't really know what's good. The words struck me. Who was he?"

"Who?" he asked, leaning on the side of the van while I wrenched open the door.

"The person in the song. Could be a she, I suppose." It hadn't been definitive.

He snorted and rounded the front of the vehicle.

"What?" I asked indignantly.

He just shook his head, continuing to chuckle to himself.

I read over the lyric again.

_Eyes dart away  
hover, avert  
condescending  
feel like dirt  
Pierce like pins  
when they strike  
Can't help but wonder  
what it'd be like  
If you could see me._

It continued, but there wasn't any indication of sex or relationship, maybe a desire for one. Instead, I flipped back to my story and continued.

* * *

_The knight stood before the charging beast, hand out. The princess peered around him, sure they were both about to be ground into the dirt. Instead, the knight pushed up and out, the winged creature folding and rolling at the odd gesture. The princess stared at the pale underside._

"Go on," he urged. "It won't hurt you." His smile was kinder than she'd seen before.

"How?" she asked, running a finger along the belly. The beast let out a growling mewl, definitely of satisfaction.

"Sometimes it's possible to push the right buttons."


	44. Week 45: Clash

Kimmydon Week 44

Posting Date: March 30, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Clash

* * *

Dino's wasn't nearly as bad as I'd been expecting. True, it could use some repairs, but it lacked the dark aura that accompanied some of the smaller restaurants and pubs I'd been to. It was like the majority of the tiny restaurants I'd frequented, cozy. Three men and one woman were in the bar. The woman wore a small apron, naming her a waitress. One of the men smelled like a cook, greasy. Of the other two men, one rose to greet Dan and the band, while the other didn't move from his stool, sipping his beer.

I was surprised such a small place had a kitchen, but it wasn't impressive, catering to a menu consisting of chicken wings or burger and fries. We had passed through it, each member of Sonic Wave carrying a part of the drum kit.

"You're here. Wasn't expecting you for a couple hours yet. Hello," he said looking me over. "New vocalist?" he asked Dan.

He snorted. "No. Just a friend. Jenn, meet Dino."

I shifted the cymbal - I think Eric had called it the high hat - so I could shake his hand. Dan took it from me with another snort.

"Pretty friend," Dino murmured. He was tall and round in the middle. His hair was gray in places, but still full on the top of his head. "You going to sit at the bar?" he asked grinning.

I had no answer. I'd never been used to being hit on. Keeping my nose in my notebook tended to avoid such advances. "Uh... I... thought I'd..."

"Give over, Dino. She's half your age," Dan said with another chuckle. "You like the older ones, don't you?"

Dino's face softened and his blue eyes blurred slightly. "Yeah, with breasts pushed up far higher than they can possibly sit normally any more, strutting for a young peacock and happy for any cock at the end of the night." He trailed off, lost in his daydream.

"Let's get out of here," Dan whispered, pushing me out the front door. "Eric and John have the rest," he explained once on the sidewalk. "I couldn't leave you _alone_ with him. Why don't you get all gooey like that for me?" he asked, indignant.

"Because you never talk nicely," I snapped back.

"I can talk nice," he said, his voice dropping and becoming mellow. "I can tell you all sorts of things you'd like to hear." A shiver ran down my spine as his lips approached my ear. "Seriously?" he asked, voice normal again. "That's all it takes? Well, damn, I figured you for a harder catch than that."

Shaking myself, I tried to steady my legs. "I can swoon without completely falling," I complained.

"Oh?" He leaned in again. "I can melt those panties right off you," he said in voice oozing sin. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs hard enough to make him double over. "Shit, okay. No panty melting. Got it." For some reason, that made me laugh. Groaning a few more times, he straightened, taking my hand. I almost pulled it away, but his grip was loose, more guiding me than holding me.

"Let's find food," he said. "You like curry?"

I shrugged. "Depends. I don't like it really spicy."

"Why am I not surprised," Dan muttered. "John and Eric will know where to find me," he said a little more loudly. He pulled me into a small restaurant a little more than a block from Dino's. The dark colours made it seem dim despite the good lighting. Dan nudged me and I looked at the cushions and low table. Slipping off my shoes, I sat, lounging slightly.

Dan leaned on his elbow behind me, his face around my hip. What was he doing there? His hand rose to hover over my bare leg. I bent my knee to aim a foot at his crotch. He smirked and I smiled.

"I like you, Chase," he said, sitting up a little more.

I blushed a little and wondered why.

"Marla's right, you don't let me get away with shit."

My grin broadened. "If I let you start, you'd never stop," I pointed out.

He chuckled. "True." The rest of Sonic Wave came in just as a woman in a sari approached to take our order.

So, full of curry and rice, I sat on a stool at the bar with Dino hovering a little too closely. I had my notebook out, scribbling away in it.

_The knight sneered at the prince who was attempting to attract his princess. She was too clever to be caught up by such an obvious suit, but she was blushing and laughing far more than he expected._

He waited for the prince to go before stepping behind the woman he'd sworn to protect. "Are you so easily blind by jewels and favours? I have brought you some," he murmured, reaching around her to touch the jewel hanging from her neck.

She stepped away, turning and laughing. "You thought he won over? Good, I want him to think so as well. And how dare you put your hands on me?" she asked in a fury.

My head whipped up at the lyrics I was hearing.

"Luz Maria Diaz  
Luchador extraordinare  
Don the tights of justice  
wear the cape of everyday man!  
Luz Maria Diaz  
Take that dog down...  
That dog down there!"

I nearly fell off my stool. I was laughing hard enough that people were staring. Most them were chuckling at the ludicrous song, but only I laughed openly. Dan found me and smiled broadly. He was playing an intricate sequence on the strings of his guitar, not singing. He winked.

A couple songs later, they broke for ten minutes. He came to me and asked what I thought.

"They didn't think it was ready?" I asked rather than answer.

He chuckled and nodded. "I think it's fine, don't you?"

"Perfect. Did you find any other words of inspiration in here?" I asked, tapping my notebook.

"Not yet. I noticed you writing again though. We that boring?"

Looking away, I felt embarrassed. "Not that. Just a good idea I needed to write down. The music is very nice."

He rolled his eyes. "You really don't like it?" There was a tightness to his eyes, his mouth. Had I insulted him?

"I really, just don't... music is background to me."

He sighed but nodded. "I guess I knew but had to see it for myself. It would have been easier if you just didn't like it. You know you're the first person I've met who actually doesn't care for music?"

I pressed my lips, feeling affronted.

"Well, I should get back up there." He looked to the stage before turning back and kissing her cheek very quickly. "Only another hour."

I didn't have a chance to say anything but could feel eyes on me that hadn't been before. I sat a little straighter and didn't open my notebook again. I listened to more of the lyrics and appreciated the poetry of them. I wondered how many Dan had written. I'd never thought of him as a writer before today. Were there other things we had in common? I doubted it.

When they started packing up a man in the bar approached me. "Hey, baby. You got a ride home?"

"Yes, thank you." I looked pointedly away, toward Dan and the others.

"Ah, groupie. You know, they won't mind if I steal you for the night." His hand stroked my bare leg.

"Do not touch me," I hissed in a low growl.

"Why not, sweet thing? You look like you could use some touching." He brought his hand to my face and I turned away. "I'll treat you nice." His leering was truly repulsive, even more than the stench of stale beer coming off him.

"You will," I said sweetly, smiling and putting my hand over his. Then I dug my nails into his wrist. "You will treat me very nicely and leave me alone."

"I like them feisty," he said, causing bile to rise in my throat.

"Back off," Dan said, clapping the man on his shoulder. "She's with me. With us," he said, glancing behind him to Eric and John.

"Buck," Dino groaned. "How many times do I have to kick you out of here before you listen when a woman tells you no. Get outta my bar." He came around the bar to seize the man by the shoulders and hustle him out.

Dan held my hands gently in his, stroking the backs with his thumbs. "It's all right. There's only one load left. We can get out of here."

I took a breath and grabbed my notebook and bag one-handed, not quite ready to let go. "Thank you," I murmured as he put an arm around my shoulders.

"No problem. I'll take you home." It didn't occur to me until we were in the van and on the road that he hadn't raised my ire or made me uncomfortable.

"Thank you," I said again into the quiet of the van. Eric was snoring, but John was still awake, tapping out rhythms to the music on his iPod.

"I don't like guys doing that to you. I didn't like Dino doing it, and he was harmless. Do you even know how pretty you are?" He took his eyes from the dark road long enough to look at me. "Do you?"

"N-no." I didn't. I mean, I knew I wasn't hard on the eyes, but I had never been one to put a lot of attention into my appearance. I usually took any compliments I received as pure flattery.

"I didn't think so," he muttered, watching the road again. "I'll make sure you don't come alone to a show again. Even Marla with you probably would have kept that guy off." His voice was gruffer than I'd heard it before.

"I think you're right. That's a good idea. I know she likes your band, at least a little." She had bought their shirt after all.

He chuckled. "Yeah, she doesn't hate us." We drove in silence for a while. It was too dark to write in the van and I didn't really want to, anyway.

"Practice," I murmured, thinking to ask him something. "You said you could palm things by practice. Who taught you that?"

Dan smiled, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "Grandpa Danny. Yeah, I'm named after him. He loved to make coins appear from no where and cards disappear. He showed me how. Then, when Dad passed, it was handy on the street."

I was stunned for a moment. That was more than I had expected. Certainly more direct than I  
would have delivered such information. "On the street?" I murmured in disbelief.

"Yeah. It was tough. We moved between shelters a lot. Luckily the state never found out. They probably would have tried to take me away. Missed some school in there. Mom hated that part, but she didn't always have the bus money. When I figured out how badly she wanted me to go, I started nicking change where I could. It's actually pretty easy. Especially coins, no one pays attention to their quarters anymore. I bought myself lunch some days." The headlights of an on-coming semi truck lit up his face for a moment, showing me his dazzling smile. "What, you mean to tell me your life has been nothing but roses?" he asked in response to my dumbfounded expression.

"Compared to that, yes." I shook myself. "Dad lost his job when the market crashed, but Mom had something part-time. We almost lost the house, but didn't." I laughed suddenly. "They actually bought an RV last month, that's how much better they're doing. I don't think me moving out hurt that." I smirked and Dan chuckled quietly.

"Never hurts to have one less mouth to feed. Gotta feed your family; gotta feed yourself." He said it like I should have heard it before, but I hadn't.

One of the guys behind started talking in his sleep. "No, Ma, I don't wanna haircut."

Dan and I both erupted in laughter, waking John and Eric. We never learned which one it had been.

Dawn was on horizon when Dan dropped me off. "I'm really glad you came," he said, holding the door open and offering a hand to help me down. The guys were asleep again already.

"I'm glad I did, too."

He leaned toward me and I raised a hand to his lips.

"Let's not ruin my impression of the night," I teased.

"Whatever you say," he whispered, breath curling in my ear and making me shiver. "You'll wish you'd come with me. My wings really can take you to heaven."

It was so cheesy and yet delivered so well, all I did was smile in reply. "I could break those wings..." I muttered.

He laughed. "I await that day. I'll finish that song for you." My notebook was in his hands again, but this time I wasn't surprised. He tore out the page with his lyrics. "I'm glad you liked it. I'm going to actually borrow this one weekend, or maybe when you've filled it. Luchador Extraordinaire can't be the only song hiding in there." His grin was big again as he handed me the notebook.

"Here," I pushed it at him. "I'll start a new one."

"Thanks," he murmured and kissed my cheek quickly before walking back around the van.

Flopping down on my bed, I'm surprised at how light it has gotten. I could see the map clearly, all the places I'd never been, places I could go. With Dan? Would Dan ever fit properly into my life? Probably not.

_"Princess," the knight called. "I've learned of another dragon that needs slaying. Besides, it doesn't do either of us any good to have me sitting around here." He lifted a gauntlet covered hand, either in salute or simple greeting, the princess wasn't sure, but she had to agree. Whether his absence made his presence more bearable, or simply because his reputation was vital to her protection, she was never sad to see him go._


	45. Week 46: Parting

Kimmydon Week 46

Posting Date: April 6, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Parting

* * *

_The princess gathered her basket of herbs and turned back for the castle. The knight stood in her way, taking the basket from her arm._

"Don't strain yourself," he said, with a smirk.

"Don't mix them up," she relied coolly, resting a hand on his arm as she picked her way out of the meadow. "Why are you here?" she asked imperiously

"It isn't safe for you to be out here alone. I've told you so before. I'm going to wind up rescuing you from some evil sorcerer yet," he grumbled.

"I am hardly defenseless," she reminded him. "With the contents of that basket alone I could chase off any number of lurkers."

She stopped abruptly, seizing his arm in both of hers. The knight wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement that gripped her, until the tiny creature stepped out of the trees - a fawn, still speckled. "Isn't he dear?" she cooed.

The knight guffawed loudly, frightening the animal away. The princess scowled at him. "Well he is, deer," he managed between snorts, upending her basket. Swinging the now empty vessel at his helmetless head, she bent to beginning sorting through the mess of stems in the grass.

Marla gave me an odd look as I walked through the kitchen, pulling my blond locks into a tail. "What?"

"You're going out?" she asked.

"Yes." I opened the fridge and pulled out the juice. "Is that a problem?"

"No," she said smiling. "You're going out with Dan?"

I set the carton back down with a thump. "Yes. Is _that_ a problem?"

"Nope," she said, popping a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. "Have fun," she managed around the metal stem still between her lips.

"Thanks," I said, swallowing my juice. "We're not dating."

"Uh-huh." She didn't even pretend to believe me. Setting my glass in the sink, I nearly ran out of the apartment. Dan had planned to meet me at the park. He had some new lyrics he wanted me to hear and to give me back my notebook.

I sat on the bench with my new notebook, jotting down more notes for my story. I pushed my glasses up just in time to see a small boy wave at me and blow me a kiss. He had liquid dark brown eyes and eyelashes that seemed endless. His dark hair was curly, adding to his cherub-seeming. His pudgy hand reached out with the kiss, and I put my fingers into it, index and middle. He smiled and squeezed them. It was only then that I saw Dan standing beside and slightly behind him.

"Are you going to introduce us?" I asked.

Dan smiled. "This is Damien. Damien, meet Jenn."

"Hi," he said, before turning and tucking himself between Dan's legs.

"What a sweetie. Not yours, I hope," I half-joked. I would hope if he had a kid he would have mentioned it by now. Also, I could _not_ picture him a responsible father.

"Why not? Isn't he as adorable as me?" he asked, picking up the toddler and hugging him.

"Yes, he is, which is part of what frightens me."

Dan chuckled. "It should," he said in the voice that made me squirm in my seat, waggling his eyebrows at me. I nudged him with my shoulder in the hopes of stopping him in his tracks. It seemed to work. At least he never pushed. Constantly hinting, flirting, but never pushing.

"No, I had one near miss. A girlfriend missed a period, but no kids for me, yet. This is my cousin." He turned Damien toward me and he started to babble. I only understood every third word from his mouth and they didn't fit together at all: Ma, juice, home, Nana, sand, tree, truck. On and on he babbled while I nodded and asked him questions like. "You have truck?" or "You love Nana?" And he would continue. Dan's mouth was slightly agape.

"I didn't know he knew that many words."

I chuckled. "Do you have trouble getting a word in?" I asked Damien.

He continued to babble; I understood none of this barrage. "How old is he?" I asked Dan.

"Not two yet. Seriously, I figured he'd just play in the grass. I didn't expect this." He looked down on his cousin in wonder.

"Well, why don't you read him some of your lyrics. He might like them. Do you like Dan to sing?" I asked Damien. His chubby cheeks lifted in a smile and then he twisted to smile at Dan. He clapped his hands together.

Dan chuckled and pulled out my old notebook. He flipped to the back and began singing. Damien crawled over into my lap and snuggled into my arm as Dan sang for us.

"You could use live instead love there," I mentioned on one line, "just to make a change."

"Yeah. That'd work. Thank you for this. As you've heard, I pulled six songs from your characters. I think the princess and knight have to be the best though. You're still writing them, aren't you?"

My jaw fell a little. Damien shifted slightly in my arms as I stiffened. He was almost asleep.

Dan chuckled and flipped a page. "Here Damien, you'll like this. 'Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a princess. She had magic powers, but she wasn't strong. She needed someone to defend her. She used her magic to protect her kingdom, but she had run out of the special root that ringed her castle in fire. Her guards fought against the attackers, but they were falling one by one.

"'Her special knight, the strongest of them all, had been sent away by the princess, not on a special mission, but because she wanted him out of the castle. It was a mistake. He could have helped her if he'd been there.'" He was paraphrasing a lot, but I didn't see the need to correct him. "'He arrived just in time with the root, allowing the princess to cast her spell.' The knight and the princess didn't get along, but they needed each other. Even if neither could admit it."

Damien was a dead weight in my arms, passed out only a few lines into the story. Dan took complete advantage of the fact that my hands were full. He leaned over the toddler to put his lips on mine. "I can admit it," he whispered. "I need you, Jenn."

It wasn't that sticky warm voice that made me melt, it was his speaking voice, only without any of the taunting it usually held. My heart was thudding fit to burst. Blood rushed to my head and cheeks making me dizzy. He was so close, his lips still on mine. How could I think? All I could see were his liquid dark brown eyes.

"No, you don't," I managed.

"I want you, then." His voice drew on that husky tremor that made his singing mellow, that made me putty.

"You..." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. He kissed me again. No more passionately than before, but his hand did brush my ear, cupping the back of head, waiting. "You don't want all of me," I claimed. "You don't want my mind, my dreams..."

"Why do you think I took this?" he asked, smacking the top of my head with the notebook. "I love your mind. I love the way you beat me with it. I need armor against your rapier wit," he teased. Neither of us laughed.

He was still too close. Why did he always sit so close, constantly touching me?

"Why won't you let me in?" he asked, exasperated, sitting back a little. "Haven't I been here? Haven't I listened, offered my ideas, my words. Haven't I taken enough haughty stares?" His finger traced my ear making me shiver. "I'm not asking for everything, just something."

"Something," I murmured, unable to resist his spell. I pursed my lips and his closed on them, sealing them. His teeth brushed my bottom lip, making me shiver again and gasp.

He took advantage again, and ran the tip of his tongue over the inside of my lips, and I leaned into him, seeking more.

Damien shifted, saving me from embarrassment. I sat up quickly, pulling the child closer, almost as a shield.

Dan smiled and pushed my glasses up my nose. "Thank you. That was definitely something."

I tried not to cry. This was still a chase for him. I couldn't let it be more to me.

_The princess brewed her potion carefully, knowing she couldn't afford a single element to go awry. When it was ready, she took it to the knight._

"Drink this," she ordered.

He looked her over, far too familiarly, then downed the goblet in three long draughts. "Strength serum?" he asked.

"Amnesiatic," she answered just before he passed out. She couldn't let him any nearer than she already had.


	46. Week 47: Misfortune

Kimmydon Week 47

Posting Date: April 13, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Misfortune

* * *

What was I doing here? I should have learned my lesson from his last show, but no, I'd decided to try to make it to another. Sure, there was the lure of the new songs, written about characters I had created, but Dan would have been happy to sing them for me somewhere quiet, well-lit, and warm. Instead I'd wedged myself into a milling crowd, sure my shoe was slipping in something not from a glass. I'd made it through three numbers before I couldn't take another minute. The people felt like insects, swarming me. I ran from the bar and heaved a sigh of relief from beside the bouncer still taking cover fees.

"You okay?" he asked, eying me over. "Need me to get a cab?"

I should have accepted, instead I foolishly thought a walk would do me good. Fresh air wasn't a bad idea, but the neighborhood I'd chosen couldn't be much worse. Dan wouldn't swoop in and save me now. I didn't have a knight sworn to protect me. I was going to be crushed by the monster that dogged my steps.  
I froze in front of a lighted window, praying the neon would repel him, like some magic barrier.  
It seemed to work at first, he stalled anyway. Then he came on, grabbed my arm and pushed me past the window, into the alley.

"Come along, little girl." His voice dripped venom and I started to scream. His hand wrapped around my mouth, muffling it. It was cut by the knife he produced. "Now play nice and I won't have to use this," he warned, twisting the blade so it shone in the sparse light. Tears filled my eyes but I nodded slightly.

_"Aren't you lucky I have a strong constitution? Amnesia, the knight muttered._

The princess clung to the knight's back as he rode out of the cave. "How do you get me into these things?" he asked.

"I'm beginning to believe your reputation is bringing disaster," she retorted, losing breath as she connected hard with the saddle.  
"Heh, suppose it could be. You never see the inept ones I put down. It's mercy-killing, I swear." He chuckled and held a hand over hers where it clung to his breastplate.

"Well, if you will kindly return me to my fortress, I will attempt to make your job easier," she answered coolly.

"How's that?"

"Better fortifications, of course. Less chance..." His laughing cut her off.

"You think they won't find a way around? They always do. How many times have you been captured this month? this week? I'm starting to think you're running off with them to make me come for you."

She seethed, wishing she could cross her arms. Finally she did let go and slipped form the saddle to the dirt. She tumbled once, her rags picking up more filth. This last captor had not been gentle.

Rearing, the knight pulled rein, and dismounted, coming to lift her. "Why?" he asked.

She kicked a little, ineffectually, until he plopped her in the saddle, walking with the reins. She quieted some then.

"Why?" he barked again.

"I don't know," she answered. She knew the question. Why did she fight him? Why didn't she let him protect her properly, all the time? Why did she refuse his presence so often?

"Try to figure it out," he grumbled.

Scooping a glob of jam onto my bread, I joined Marla at the table.

"What happened to you?" she asked, alarmed. "Where were you last night?"

I didn't answer, slugging back coffee and choking on it. "Nothing happened," I said when the coughing died away. "I went to the show, then Dan brought me home."

She smirked. "Dan did. Is he coming by again today?"

"Yes," I said in a whisper. Appetite gone, I dropped the bread to my plate and turned back for my room.

"Wait," Marla called. "Your face. What did you do? Fall?"

I ran a hand of the shallow scrape and bruise. "Yeah. I fell. Near a wall." It was pushed against a wall, but close enough.

"You're not going to eat that?" she asked, pointing at the bread and heart-shaped glob.

"No. In fact, I'm going for a walk. Tell Dan I'm at the park?" I didn't bother with bag or coat, walking out.

I sat staring into grassy field, not seeing the kids playing, or dogs walking. Leaping of the bench, I punched Dan in the jaw as he tried to hug me.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, putting my hand to the spot. "You scared me."

"I deserved that. Should have warned you. You forgot this," he said, pulling my notebook from his coat pocket. "That nearly scared Marla to death. You'll have to tell her something when you get back. As soon as she told me you were gone, I guessed where." He moved to sit next to me. "May I?" he asked, lifting his arm and setting it well off my shoulders behind me.

I nodded and leaned into his chest, tucking my head under his chin. "Thank you," I whispered. "It could have been so much worse. It was bad, but..." I sniffled unable to relive any of the night before, yet.

"I'm here for you, Chase. Always. I'll come for you anytime, anywhere. I just wish I'd known you were coming. If John hadn't spotted you in the crowd, if I hadn't gone looking..." We both shuddered at the implications.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked after several minutes of silence.

"No," I whispered.

"Want to hear a story?" he asked. "About a little boy who got caught by bigger boys?"

"No," I answered honestly. "Unless it's about the little boy kicking all their asses."

He laughed, and I could feel it rumble through him. "Don't let him get you, Jenny. He's gone. You will never see him again. No one is going to see him again for months."

I let the words calm me. He was right. The creep was a repeat offender. I probably wouldn't even need to go to court. Dan's hand never stopped moving on my back, slow strokes. He turned his head to kiss the top of mine.

I shifted, bringing my face up to his. I held those deep dark eyes for a moment before pressing my lips to his.

His response took me by surprise. He jumped and seized my shoulders, pulling me away slightly. "Whoa. You sure you wanna do that?"

I sighed a little. "No," I answered honestly before deflating completely. I was a puddle of Jennifer in his lap, no will to stir from the spot.

His hands found my hair and started combing through it. "'Why?' he asked. I opened my notebook to what I'd written after he dropped me off.

_"She kicked a little, ineffectually, until he plopped her in the saddle, walking with the reins. She quieted some then._

"'Why?'" Dan continued to read.

"I don't know," I answered. Then the tears came. I'd cried on him last night, and then it had been okay. I mean, I'd been assaulted and nearly raped, that excused a few tears, but now? Now I didn't know why I was crying. Probably because I was a girl.

"It's okay, Chase, cry it out." It wasn't what I'd expected to hear, and the tears slowed as a result.

"What?" I asked.

"That's what that little boy did, after he got back to his mom. She held him, and let him cry, until he was ready to try again."

I half-expected the tears to return, but they didn't. Instead I threw my arms around his neck, half-straddling him. He gave a gasp in astonishment. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I shouldn't have left alone. I shouldn't have _gone_ alone. I'll never be so stupid again." Pressing my face to his neck, I pursed my lips to kiss it.

"I'm so glad I found you. John and Eric still weren't talking to me this morning, but they will when I tell them why I didn't come back. I can't believe you came at all, alone or otherwise. Why did you do it?"

I sniffled and pulled away enough to look at him. "42."

He put his forehead to mine. "You're telling me," he murmured.

His smile warmed me where I thought I'd be frozen forever. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours, but it felt like eternity.

"Take me to heaven?" I asked, an errant tear tickling my nose. His lips moved to kiss it away.

"One day soon," he promised. "First, I want to have you here a little longer." He hugged me tight again, stroking my back and rocking. I wouldn't argue. There wasn't anywhere else I wanted to be.


	47. Week 48: Rising Water

Kimmydon Week 48

Posting Date: April 20, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Rising Water

* * *

The grey sky was ominous as we drove nearer to the ocean. There was little traffic in either direction, which was surprising. We expected an exodus away from the hurricane and flood zone, but apparently everyone had already left and we were the only one's crazy enough to be driving into it.

"Keep going, Martin," I pleaded as the rain began to pelt the windshield. "I know she's there. We have to help her."

"She's gotten out already, Lucy. Why don't you believe that? She's long gone and just didn't have a way to tell us."

"No, she's trapped. Don't ask me how I know, I just know. Just like I know we're going to get there before this really breaks on us." I looked up at the sky, doubting myself for a minute. It looked horrid, and the devastation further south certainly foretold of disaster here. It didn't matter. I had to get to Kristen. She had been living in the lighthouse all summer, alone. She said it was perfect for her to work on her novel. No interruptions, easy, steady work. She'd sent me pieces of the manuscript to review, by mail - snail mail. She was taking this 'olden days' thing far too seriously.

Martin knew she had taken only a long dead cell phone with her into the light house, and no computer, no laptop, nothing. The lighthouse had power and a phone jack, but she'd shunned both, as he knew, which is why he was so avid that she simply hadn't gotten hold of us. However, I knew that if she'd left, the first thing she would do is find a phone and call. She was still there, trapped in a tower on the edge of the ocean.

As we broke through the scrub to the actual beach, I saw just how trapped she was. Tide was in and higher than it had ever been. The storm had lighted a little, as I had known it would. I jumped from the car before Martin even had it in park.

"Lucy! Come back here!"

It was too late, I'd jumped off the rocks that protected the area we had parked, though the water would breach those soon as well, and landed with a splash in the swirling, rising water. I started to slog for the pinnacle, for Kristen. My red coat floated on the water, swirling around me, but I hardly noticed it. It seemed to take hours to reach the door at the base of the spire, and it was already half its height under the water, as was I. It would have been impossible to open if it had been fully sealed.

Planners had left small gaps, which made this horribly cold in the winter, but accessible now, when the water threatened to strand whoever was inside.

"Kristen!" I yelled, shoving the door with all my strength. It budged slowly. "Kristen! Can you hear me?"

"Lucy?" her voice croaked. It sounded full of pain. "Is that you?"

"I'm coming, Kristen!" The stairs, out of the water, were easy to climb, though I shivered with cold. Being out of the water drew attention to the winds coming off the ocean, bringing the hurricane with them.

I found her, trying to turn the glass of the light. The rusted mechanism had jammed. Joining her, I pushed with all the might I had as well. This was important, getting the light where it would warn ships tossed in the storm. Two backs seemed to have enough oomph to throw the mirror into place. Kristen ran out of the room while I still heaved for breath.

She came back with pages in a giant ziplock. I almost laughed. She hugged the bundle to her chest. "Thanks for coming. I assume Martin is out there?" she asked, skipping down the stairs.

I was hot on her heels. "Yes. We need to hurry, we won't get far before this really breaks. Why don't you have a radio in here?" I asked as she pushed open the door that had been shut again.

The water on the other side fought against her. It had risen in the time I'd been here. "I do. I just... didn't turn it on," she admitted sheepishly.

Shaking my head, I joined her at the door, wedging it enough for the water to swirl in, up to my breasts now. We only opened it enough to press one of us out at a time, and we each groaned and cursed as it tried to close on us. It slammed as soon as I was through and we started paddling for the shore. I could see Martin in his light brown slicker, watching for us. He started waving arms as soon as we were out.

"He's never going to let me live this down, is he?" Kristen asked.

"And I am?"

The water had breached the rocks, just barely, and it was through sloppy mud that we ran for the car, Kristen and I caught each other as we skated on the slick surface. We both hopped into the back where I'd left a couple of blankets, suspecting we'd be cold.

Martin, bless him, had left the engine running and was backing onto the highway as our door closed. "Hold on," her warned, snapping the wheels and tossing both of us in the passenger side door. Kristen grunted as I collided with her, but Martin was climbing, headed to town where we could shelter. Already the winds were rising and the rain had returned, harder than before.

"You alright?" he asked, once we were on the slope.

"Yeah. We're okay," I answered.

"Thank you," Kristen murmured.

Martin just chuckled. "If I didn't trust Lucy so much..." he mused, focusing on the road and trying to see through the rain.

"At least we'll have something to read while we wait out the storm," I joked, taking Kristen's bundle from her. I gasped when I saw the water pooled at the bottom. "Oh no!"

Kristen's hand shot out to take it back, ripping the bag open. She sighed in relief. "Just a little damp on the edge. A hole in the bag, probably.

The last line or two of each page was smudged, but not illegible. Her baby, as she so often called it.

Martin got out first, when we reached the community hall. He dove out and ran for the door, banging on it twice before pulling it open. He ducked in for only a second before holding it and motioning for us to join him. Clutching our blankets, we did.

There was a small group gathered, coffee in an urn, water in pitchers, and a handful of kids chasing each other around the large open floor.

"Hello. Did you have any trouble?" a woman with grey hair asked.

"A little," Kristen answered. "The mirror wouldn't budge. I need Simon to come take a look at it when he can." She filled a cup with steaming brown liquid, holding her blanket with one hand. "I might not have made it out if my friends hadn't come to help me with it."

She motioned to Martin and I. I waved tentatively.

"And now you're trapped here, too. Well, they say this won't last long, overnight. Melanie! Nita! Would you two stop running! I need you to get another mat."

The two oldest girls stopped chasing the younger boys and went to one of the doors under the small stage. They dragged out a pair of mats that might be used for gymnastics, but would be our beds for the night. The woman, who's name I hadn't gotten, went to help them lay out sheets and pillow from the pile on another mat.

"You don't mind staying, do you?" Kristen asked. "That's Mrs. Murphy and the girls are her daughters; the boys, grandsons."

"I don't see as we have much choice," Martin complained, listening to the storm howl.

All the lights went out suddenly and then came back on a moment or two later.

"We have a generator," Mrs. Murphy told us, returning. "And stew in a crockpot when you get hungry." She led them toward the kitchen again. "Don't expect many will find their way here tonight, but you never know in a storm like this. Tree blow right through your window, and then what do you do?"

None of us answered, just took more coffee, quietly.

"How much longer are you planning to stay here?" I asked Kristen as I sipped from my mug. "You must be nearly done writing by now." She couldn't mean to stay in the tiny coastal town forever. Certainly not in the lighthouse.

"I'm not sure. I'm... not finished..."

There was a gust of cold salty air as the door opened.

"Simon! Shut that. Hurry now!"

As soon as I saw the man, I knew what Kristen wasn't finished. "And why didn't you have him come fix the lantern sooner," I asked.

Martin chuckled, too. He probably noticed Kristen's face colour as the man came in. He wasn't extraordinarily handsome, but he certainly didn't strain the eye, either. His head was covered with a shiny rain hat, that he doffed quickly to reveal more forehead than he'd probably had a few years ago. Rather than old, it made him look... stately.

He stepped up to Mrs. Murphy and kissed his cheek. "House's shut up as tight as I can make it. The boys give you any trouble?"

"Not a lick. Girls! Boys! Come get some supper."

I turned to Kristen in surprise. Not only was he a few years older than us, he had kids? This was a long way from the guys she usually dated. She was still red-faced and watching Simon closely. I couldn't take my eyes from her, until Martin approached Simon, hand out-stretched.

"Hi, I'm Martin. Lucy and I are friends of Kristen. We were worried when we didn't hear from her." He glanced over his shoulder at us and Kristen huddled further into her blanket, seeming to hide.

"What have you got there, dear?" Mrs. Murphy asked, coming closer. "Is that the book? Bring it into the kitchen. Lots of counter to set it out on. I see it's gotten a bit damp."

I was even more confused and beginning to feel out of place. Maybe Kristen hadn't needed us after all. She followed the older woman into the kitchen silently but was soon set upon by the boys who didn't seem interested in their stew. The colour in her cheeks faded as she answered their questions and showed them pages. She wasn't leaving.

Simon was watching her with the boys. Martin stood beside him, grinning. He caught my eye and winked before striking up a conversation with Simon. One that probably revolved around revealing every tidbit Kristen would like never repeated. Indeed, Simon was soon laughing with Martin and they moved to some stacking chairs that had been set out.

I entered the kitchen, planning to ask Kristen about Simon, but she had her head bent to Mrs. Murphy's. "You'll be fine dear. Just go and talk to him. I know the old mechanics of the lighthouse aren't like the new fangled gadgets he works with now, but he'll know what to do. I'll keep the boys out of both your hair." The older woman's smile was warm and knowing as well.

Grabbing a deck of playing cards from a cubby hole, I sat at one of the tables set up and started dealing out Klondike, until Martin came and took the cards, dealing for Gin Rummy. "Didn't see that coming, did you?" he asked, cocking his head in Simon and Kristen's direction.

"No," I answered honestly. My gift let me see somethings, very clearly in the worst scenarios, but almost nothing in the best. It was nice. It meant I could still be surprised, but usually in the most pleasant ways.


	48. Week 49: Boys and Rainbows

Kimmydon Week 49

Posting Date: April 27, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Boys and Rainbows

* * *

All hail summer vacation. How much longer until school started again? Oh, right, fifty days. Had it only been two weeks? Well, Beth definitely agreed with me. She only had one, lucky girl, and Sarah was a doll. Although, I didn't like the way Sarah eyed my Jacob. They were both too young for that sort of thing, right? Thirteen was too young. Definitely.

Jacob certainly didn't seem to notice Sarah. He was too busy climbing back to the spout at the top of that damn rainbow slide. She was adjusting herself on her towel, making sure her sunglasses were perched just so.

Beth nudged my elbow. "Good idea? The waterpark, I mean."

"Are you kidding? Fantastic idea. I've been chasing them out of the house every day and they never seem to know what to do with themselves. 'Go play' seems to be a foreign language." I shook my head in disgust and disbelief.

Beth laughed. "Sarah would spend all day, everyday, at the mall if I let her. She'd also be wearing less of a bathing suit if I let her have her way." Beth rolled her eyes. "She claims this will give her wicked tan lines."

We both stopped talking as one of the younger boys crept up to where Sarah lay. She must've had her eyes closed because she didn't move until he hurled a bucket of water on her.

Beth and I nearly fell off our perches at the picnic table, laughing. Sarah chased after the boy, tripping in her towel and sprawling on the grass. As string of profanity issued from her mouth that had Beth stepping quickly to her daughter. Surprisingly, Jacob made it there ahead of her.

"Are you okay, Sarah? He just wanted to splash you. Actually, I wanted him to splash you."

"Um, I'm okay," she murmured, looking away as he did. She sighed. "I need a new towel though."

"Oh! You can have mine," he said, leading her to my side where he rummaged in our bag to pull one out. He wrapped it around her shoulders quite chivalrously. I couldn't hide my smile. Beth echoed it.

"Is that better?" he asked, wary.

"Yes, thank you." Sarah stepped a little closer, but just then Jacob's younger brother, Doug, came and tossed water on Jacob.

I snorted and Sarah muffled her laugh with her hand as Jacob stood there, dripping and scowling.

"I had to wash the cooties off!" the eight year old maintained, trying to climb the multi-hued dome again.

"Cooties," Beth said between chuckles, sitting next to me again. Jacob was climbing after his brother and Sarah was setting up again on the grass.

* * *

After tucking Doug in bed, I nearly ran to kitchen. Who was cooking? Not burning, thankfully. There Jacob sat on the counter, in his shorts, eating scrambled eggs from a plate.

I shook my head but said nothing, passing through.

"Wait, Mom. I was wondering if you'd take me to the movies tomorrow. Not _go_ with me." The derision in his voice was hard to miss and nearly made me snort. "Drop me off... with some friends."

I leaned against the counter in the corner opposite him. "Some friends?" I asked.

"Well, just one friend." He turned slightly pink.

"Aren't you a little young to be dating?" I asked. "I mean, your brother will be appalled if you bring home cooties." That had the desired effect; he laughed.

"Not a date. Well, not a _real_ date. Unless... Will she think it's a date?" he asked. "Do I need to do something special to make it a date?"

I rolled my eyes. As clueless as his father. "I think it would count."

"Oh." He rubbed a hand through his mop of hair, making it stick up worse than it was from the waterpark.

"Yeah. You ready for that?"

"Why? Does it mean something? I mean, is it important?" He was stunned and wide-eyed. Innocent. This girl had caught him hard. If I didn't know Beth, I might be worried. She wouldn't let her daughter go around using boys like mine, well not for long, not once she found out.

"It means you think of her as a girl, not just as a friend. Is that how you see her?"

His eyes remained wide and he gulped down another forkful of eggs before answering. "Yeah, I do."

"Then I think you're ready. I'll drop you off at two. We can pick Sarah up on the way. Make sure you wash that pan." I patted his knee as I left the room.

"Mom?"

I turned back, a little surprised.

He'd hopped down from the counter and kissed my cheek. "Love you."

He didn't even have to stretch. Damn that boy grew fast.


	49. Week 50: What Little Girls Are Made Of

Kimmydon Week 50

Posting Date: May 4, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: What Little Girls Are Made Of

* * *

The metal chairs were uncomfortable and creaks echoed as the music faded out. It was quickly replaced by a thunder of applause. My wife and I joined, only slightly less enthusiastic as our daughter was not among the girls on stage. They all bowed together before heel-toeing their way off the stage in unison. They moved more gracefully than I'd ever seen Sarah, age four, manage, but then again, they were an older class.

"She's next," Beth said quietly, just loudly enough to be heard.

Immediately my chest tightened slightly. She was with the tiny heads peeking around the curtain as the older girls passed. Her first recital.

Beth took my hand and laughed a little as she squeezed it. "She's going to be fine," she whispered to me, kissing my cheek.

Sure enough, my little girl, hair fought into a tiny knot on the back of head amid hundreds of pins, smiled as brightly as any of the other nine girls on stage with her. The instructor took the microphone up briefly to introduce the youngest class and their rendition of Butterfly. They all wore pink leotards and tutus with blue wings attached to sleeves they wore. Beth had had the job of constructing half of those. One of the other girls waved to her parents and blew a kiss. Another girl had started staring at the spotlight and missed the beginning of the music. Sarah did neither. She'd found us, and her smile had brightened, but she stood on her mark and moved when the music started.

I'd been to the odd practice, but Beth attended most of them, so I was unprepared for the fluttering of wings, the interplay between the girls as they leaped between one another, bent and straightened, ran through another series of leaps, all their wings ruffled by the speed of their movements.

Sarah spun out, a frown painting her face as she stood on the edge for the final pliet, but it disappeared when I jumped up, whistling.

"Good job!" I called as more applause joined mine. Beth shook her head as she rose more slowly.

"Really, Peter. She's fine. She'll probably be more upset at you than herself," she chided me.

I didn't care. My little girl had gotten up on that stage, she'd stared down a theatre full of adults, and she'd shown them what she could do. I was bursting with pride for her. I wanted to run up there and hug her and show everyone she was mine.

I didn't. Beth was right about it being too much. Still, I was looking forward to giving Sarah the flowers that were currently hiding under my chair, just like she was the prima ballerina. To me, she was.


	50. Week 51: Clear

Kimmydon Week 51

Posting Date: May 11, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Clear

* * *

**Clear**

_His fingers traced her breast, her ribs, her hip. His lips echoed down the opposite side, both meeting where she still burned, even though she was sure she could burn no hotter, no longer. He had a magic of his own, something stronger than any spell she had cast._

The princess's breath came in panting gasps. The knight held her tightly as she recovered her breath. "More?"

"Yes, please," she cried, pulling him closer again.

* * *

My pencil nearly tore the paper scratching that out. I flipped to a clean one.

_Once upon a time,_

"A girl was sexually frustrated," I said aloud, falling back on my pillow.

After all his hinting at 'taking me to heaven,' Dan was slow as molasses now that I'd made a move. I had never had a problem with this before, but after our dates, I couldn't focus until morning. Still feeling squirmy, I considered writing more horrid erotica. I knew my strengths as a writer, and that wasn't it.

On the other hand, he did tend to read what I wrote...

I had to try to explain all I was feeling. He knew I was still shaken from the assault, which made him tentative. He also knew he irritated the life out of me, making my intentions more suspect. Still, there had to be a way to do it.  
I looked back at what I had written.

___Once upon a time.  
_

* * *

_there was a scared little girl. She had friends and family who loved her, but she still sought solitude. She still hid behind her books. Safety was found on the page, or so she thought. Someone reached past the page, pulled the pages from her. At first, she didn't know what to make of this stranger who seemed so completely her opposite. She wasn't frightened of him, but he did make her uncomfortable._

Before she learned if her discomfort came from dislike or attraction, she shut him out. She stopped returning his calls, stopped taking lunch where he would meet her, tried to drive him away. She thought it had worked. He wasn't calling anymore at least. However, now she knew which it was. She missed him. She missed his taunts, his teasing, his humor. She missed his smile, his voice, his hand in hers. So, she went to him. Fool that she was, she didn't tell him she was coming.

That night, disaster struck her. Her friend, her knight, came for her when she thought she'd pushed him completely away. Never had she wished more for her books, her solitude, to disappear as when that awful man pushed her into the alley. She never wished more for her thick sweaters and layers of clothing as when he tore them from her, tying her with the scraps. She cowered and cried as he beat her, shoving her face to the pavement.

But her friend came, even though he shouldn't know she was there, couldn't know she was in danger. He came, following only a hint of her presence. He took his brief break, not to rest, but to look for her. No longer a stranger, he frightened off the assaulter and all but carried her to safety. He stayed with her when he should be returning to his job, his livelihood.

She had needed him, and he had been there. She had missed him, come searching for him, and led him to search for her instead. She never got the chance to tell him the reason she'd been looking for him that night, never explained that she missed him.

When she found herself filled with longing, filled with need, he continued to protect her, from herself now, sure she was uncertain, confused.

What he didn't know was that she was more certain and clear than she had ever been before. She was conflicted, fighting a myriad of emotions - anxiety, loneliness, despair, joy, passion - but knew what she wanted, what she needed. Him.

I love you, Dan. I want to be with you, completely.

It was too much, over the top. Sappy in the extreme, but I didn't know how else to tell him.

Turning the page, I chose to rid myself of the rest of the unrest his touch and kiss had left.

* * *

_His lips found hers, all of his devotion sealed in that kiss._

"Yes," she murmured, her hands linking around him, pulling him closer. "Please," she pleaded, pressing herself to him, breasts rubbing along his hard, muscled chest. "I want you."

"I know," he said with a smirk, his lips moving to her ear, his breath curling there, moist and hot. "You'll want more."

She shivered at the effect his voice had on her, at the burning filling her. He used that, hands sliding down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her legs around him, his want no longer an unknown. She moaned into his hair, his lips on her neck now. He carried her effortlessly to the bed where be began to peel the layers of clothing away, kissing the skin that each one revealed.


	51. Week 52: The Burned Bush

Kimmydon Week 52

Posting Date: May 16, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: both

Title: The Burned Bush

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In honor of the first full year of picprompt's we've partnered with another blog for pictures this week. Check out for more from William Linde.

* * *

I was still finding new and interesting places along the coast. I'd come to research the setting for my novel and stayed... for Simon. I had to start admitting that to myself. Lucy knew. She'd seen through me right away.

She and Martin had stayed with me in the lighthouse after the hurricane passed. They'd both teased me mercilessly about my infatuation. Then she'd taken my baby with her when she left. She was going to read it, type it, red-pen it. I'd have to move out of the lighthouse before she finished so I could receive her email.

The rocky cliff I clung to was covered in scrubby trees and bushes, but I turned to look out over the town, not far below me. Ugly clouds rolled in, threatening more rain and wind. It blew my hair across my face and out behind me as it rushed away from the ocean. Salt stung, and tasted magnificent.

"Kristen," someone called from above me. I looked up into grey eyes that mirrored the sky. He appeared like in one of my fantas... er daydreams - a knight to help the endangered damsel. Well, I wasn't in that much danger, but the cliff was steep. "You've found it," Simon said, a grin breaking his face. He scurried down to me, some shale breaking loose and showering around me.

"What have I found?" I asked, looking. There were the same bushes all over the steep side of the tor. Well, maybe this one was especially sparse.

"The burned bush," he said triumphantly, an arm coming around my shoulders. "Not Moses' but mine."

"Yours?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckled, ducking his head a little. The warmth of that sound filled me now as it had the first time I heard it. How many months ago now? Four? Five? Why hadn't I gotten the nerve to tell him? Because I'm a writer, a shy introvert. I only met him because his mother refused to let me be until he came to fix the door of the lighthouse. I would never be able to thank her enough for that.

"Yeah, mine. When I was twelve, my friends and I were out here. With matches. Somehow this gnarly old thing is still alive." He nudged it with a sneakered toe and the bush refused to budge. "Burned really pretty, but it didn't burn down."

I ran a hand over one of the twisted branches. The bark was surprisingly smooth.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked. "Don't think I've ever seen you outside the lighthouse except for groceries." He chuckled again.

"I..." I wasn't sure what to tell him.

He rubbed my shoulder, arm reaching around me. "You've been writing. I'm just surprised you aren't writing now."

"Lucy took my draft with her," I said, sounding as empty as I felt.

"Oh, so... you're not busy tonight?" Before I could say anything he went right on. "I think that storm is going to break and you might want to be indoors. I'll volunteer my place." His smile was glorious. "If you don't mind a couple hooligans running roughshod through the place." He rolled his eyes as he referred to his two sons.

"Of course I don't. You know I love them." My hand went to my mouth. That was too much, wasn't it?

"I won't tell them if you don't. It would probably put them off. I mean you _are_a girl after all."

It was my turn to laugh. "Noticed that, did you?"

He missed a step in his decent, muttering. If the wind weren't still coming straight towards us it would have blown his words away. As it was, I heard, "hard to miss."

At the base of the cliff, I took Simon's hand. "I would love to spend the evening with you and your boys. Or without them." I let the thought hang as I walked ahead a few steps, feeling his eyes follow me.

"I'll see what Mom's doing!" he shouted eagerly, loping over the few strides it took him to catch me up. His hands found my hips and he spun me to face him. "I'd rather have you to myself."

His arms were strong around me, just as I'd imagined since I'd seen them wrestle with rusty hinges and heavy doors. His breath was salty, like the sea. And his eyes roiled like the sky, making me want to be there when they broke.

I hoped I wouldn't burn away.


	52. Week 53: Make It Special

Kimmydon Week 53

Posting Date: May 23, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Make It Special

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"Okay, Daddy," Sarah said, holding out the glass jar. "Will you put the tag on?"

Gold glittered at the bottom of the jar, fluttering as she moved with it. Instinctively, I reached out to steady it.

Sarah's five year-old face soured. "I'm not going to drop it! I can do it myself!" she reminded me petulantly.

She was right, of course. The jar wasn't heavy, and even if she did drop it, from three feet, it wasn't likely to shatter.

"Yes, you can." She held the sticker label out to me. "What do you want it to say? Happy Mother's Day?"

Sarah shook her head, blond pigtails waving. "Wishes," she insisted. "I have dreams in my room; Mommy can have wishes in hers."

She was still young enough that most of the dreams in that jar belonged to her namesake, my sister. "Have you put any dreams in there?"

Sarah rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yes."

"Mommy wrote them down?" I was surprised Beth hadn't mentioned it to me.

Sarah shook her head again, bouncing a little now. "I drew them!" she told me proudly. "Daddy? Who put the dreams in my jar? I put the wishes in Mommy's jar. Did you or Mommy put them there?"

We'd told her about her Aunt Sarah and her grandparents that weren't with us, trying to explain their deaths to a child who had never met them. It wasn't entirely successful, but she understood now why she only had one grandma and one grandpa while her friends had two or more of each. My sister was harder to explain. There was a picture of her in the stairwell, taken in Paris on a family vacation, and another with my grandparents, but they were the only ones in the house.

"Sarah, do you remember what we told you about Aunt Sarah?" I asked, not sure how much I needed to rehash.

Sarah tittered a little. "She looks like me!"

I sighed quietly. That would be the thing she remembered. It was absolutely true. I didn't have any memory of Sarah at this age, I was only a baby myself, but I had grown up with both of our baby books and photographs. Also, as she got taller and thinner, shedding baby fat, she looked more and more like the teenager I remembered, the big sister I admired so much. Same blond hair, same blue eyes, same sly smile that spoke of something you didn't know about and were probably happier that way. That wasn't so bad in a sister. I worried every time I saw that glint in my daughter's eyes. It usually meant I was in trouble with the wife and cleaning up after.

I returned to the topic at hand. "You remember that she used to live here, in this house?"

"In my room!" she shouted, even more excited. She had loved her 'big girl bed,' which was Sarah's old double. I worried about losing her in all the blankets and sheets, but she had never fallen out, never gotten too badly tangled. She stopped bouncing and twirling, a thoughtful look crossing her soft features. "Those are Auntie Sarah's dreams?"

My daughter, or more correctly perhaps, Beth's daughter, was bright. She could probably read some of those dreams, depending on the words Sarah had used. I was constantly surprised by what my daughter was capable of.

"Yes."

She pouted. "But my wishes are just stickers. No one made them special, not like Auntie Sarah did my dreams."

I chuckled and scooped her up along with the jar she still held. She tucked easily against my chest, and although I wouldn't want to carry her more than a few blocks, she didn't feel very heavy. "Silly Sarah," I teased. "You made them special. Mom's going to love it."

Sarah smiled and kissed my cheek while hugging my neck.


	53. Week 54: Escape from Reality

Kimmydon Week 54

Posting Date: June 1, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: both

Title: Escape from Reality

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"I'm just going to take a smoke break," Lisa told the crew. "Take your time setting up the next shot."

Stepping out of the car that was the main prop, Lisa walked around to the hood, leaning against it as she grabbed one of the cigarettes from her handler. She snorted as she put it into the flame on the end of his lighter.

"Isn't my health and well being in your job description?" she asked for the umpteenth time, pulling her hair back from her face.

"Yeah," Clifford said, smile on his round face. All of him was round. Not that he couldn't protect her, but he looked like a big teddy bear. "I've seen you in a nic-fit. I am protecting your well being."

Lisa laughed, pulling herself up further on the car's hood as camera-men, gaffers, grips, gophers and all other manner of company men swirled around them. Her co-star hadn't even shown up yet this morning. That wasn't a surprise, he wasn't in these shots, but he should arrive soon. They should have started their scenes by now. Her game wasn't on today. It was the damn grey sky here. She thrived in sunlight. The schedule didn't leave her any real down time either, so she was more than a little burnt out.

Pulling one leg up, she laid her hand on it to examine some dirt that had gotten under her fingernail. At first she frowned at it, but then she started to smile. At least she was working outside. They might have filmed this on a set, but she was thrilled that the director had opted not to. The fresh air and the smell of the evergreens lining this back road helped take the edge off. That and the cancer stick.

She jumped at the sound of a shutter. There were a lot of common sounds around a film set. That one wasn't rare, but it usually meant that paps had gotten in.

That wasn't the case this time. The director, John, was actually squatting there with a crappy digital camera in his hand. Lisa smirked and John frowned.

"I'm not here," he ordered.

Lisa looked down. "You're shooting my legs!" she accused, noticing how they were splayed.

"I am not!" he argued. "I'm framing the shot."

She scowled and lowered her leg, crossing ankles. Then she raised an eyebrow, daring him to object.

He scoffed. "Lisa, you know how good you are at this?"

Her scowled lightened. "I like to hear people like you tell me," she told him.

"I know you had a time getting here," John allowed, "but you earned it. There's a reason you're cast so often."

Lisa sighed. "Blessing and curse," she muttered, pushing from the car and rubbing out her butt. A gopher took it from her; it couldn't wind up in a shot.

"Rob's here!" someone called from behind trailers at the far end of the road.

"Good!" John called back. "Start getting the lake shot set up. We'll be there in minutes."

Lisa chuckled. "Confident, are we?"

"I am. You're going to nail it this time."

And she did. She pushed through the rest of her day, worked chemistry with Rob, who was not recovering well from the night before. She longed to ask what bad news he'd gotten; he didn't normally drink during shoots. There was never enough or the right time though.

"Cut! That's it for today," John said, coming around the camera. "I'll see both of you in the morning."

Lisa looked up, surprised how early it was in the day. She turned to ask Rob if he wanted to get a coffee in town, but he was already gone, his handler following him. Ford came to her side and Lisa smiled. The big man would be great company.

"Let's get some ice cream," she said, rubbing her hands together.

Clifford laughed. "I'm watching my figure, you know," he joked, rubbing his round belly. He didn't fool her. She'd watched him toss fans that got aggressive or simply too excited. There was muscle beneath.

"Yeah, so am I." Lisa rubbed a hand over a thrust out hip that still didn't have enough flesh on it to earn any sort of booty call. "Come on. I'm off early!" Realizing she was whining, she stopped.

"Right, ice cream," Clifford said, taking her arm and turning her. "Anyone else coming for ice cream?" he called around the set. Everyone here still had a number of jobs to do for the day, though John seemed to consider coming along before going to his trailer to check out dailies. "Yes!" Ford said with a fist pump. "I get the girl again!"

Lisa snickered even though she'd heard that particular joke a dozen times. "Yeah yeah, you get the girl."

She stopped at make up to change out of her costume and back into her own clothes, sighing as she put her feet into flipflops. The shick-shick, shick-shick of her steps was satisfying as well.

Ford drove her away from the lake and back road into the tiny town of Jasper Springs. There might have been paps, there might have been rabid fans, but there weren't. The schedule had changed to have them here earlier than expected and the press hadn't caught on yet.

Lisa stepped out at the same time as Ford and he ran around the vehicle to her side.

"Please. What's going to happen here? The four year-olds are going to attack?" She pointed to the pre-schoolers climbing up and the ladder of the slide. A pair of tired looking moms sat on a bench. Lisa headed for the swings and took one while Ford grumbled.

"That's not the point. You have your job and I have mine," he reminded her.

"Yes, your _job_. This is my dream, you know. Or it was. To be a movie star. Sounds like the high life, right? When was the last time I had a date, Ford? You know, you came along," she teased.

"Yeah, six months. What was his name, Neil?"

Lisa sighed. "Some up-tight suit. Neil sounds right. Don't get me wrong," she told Ford, pushing off and setting the swing in motion, "I'm not giving it up. No way. But..."

His warm brown eyes followed her pendulous path. She continued, "It's like reality and fiction are all mixed up. Like this is the fairy tale, and the fairy tales I film are the reality. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Your fairy tale has me in it? Definitely messed up." His grin was impish. "Don't leave the swing," he ordered. "I'll be watching."

Lisa didn't watch him go, she just closed her eyes, listened to the children laughing, felt the sun that had finally broken through the clouds. She could be happy here, like this.

Even better was the sudden splat of cold on her nose and lips. Her legs were knocked aside as she collided with her heavyset bodyguard and pulled them back, digging into the sand.

"Shit, sorry, Ford." She licked her lips and tasted the chocolate from the ice cream cone he held. She jumped off the swing and grabbed it. "Thank you!"

"This is my job," he said, using her words. "Your well being. We can chase our dreams together. Mine is to see you have fun along the way." He put a thick arm around her shoulders and squeezed her, kissing the top of her head.

"I'll try," she promised.


	54. Week 55: Rescuer

Kimmydonn Week 55

Posting Date: June 8, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Rescuer

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_The princess stood on her throne, still screeching. The insects infesting her castle were not large, but they weren't tiny either. She could hear every one of their six legs against the polished stone floor. She could see the light reflected on their shiny black backs._

"Help me!" she yelled again, wanting to complete her spell, but unwilling to step off the chair to approach her herbs.

"Someone call for me? I thought you'd taken to screaming my name instead of just screaming." Her knight was as cocky as ever. In fact, if it were possible, he was **more** arrogant since he'd gotten closer to her.

"Clear me a path," she ordered, pointing.

"Better idea," he told her, turning away from her. "Climb on. I'll hold you, you can use your hands."

She huffed, but didn't argue, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

* * *

My pen was knocked from my hand as I was tackled to the grass. I squirmed, feeling the insects I'd been writing about, the real ants and other bugs, crawling over me.

"Let me up! Get off!" I yelled at Dan, beating his shoulders.

He pulled back immediately. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

He trailed off with a look of genuine concern, something that looked VERY odd. He thought I was upset about the tackle itself. That I was thinking about that night.

"No!" I yelled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "It's not that... It's..." I shivered again, hating admitting this fear of mine. "It's the bugs."

His brow creased as he stroked my back. "Bugs?"

I sighed loudly, feeling tears in my eyes - embarrassment and anger rolled together. "Yes. I really _hate_ bugs, especially on me. " I shuddered and felt my stomach turn.

He chuckled and pulled me into his lap. "There, now they won't get you."

I let out a quick laugh of my own, knowing it was a ridiculous fear. These ants didn't even bite.

"Is it all bugs? Do you need me to fight off the butterflies, too?" he teased, brushing my back and bare arms.

"No." I drug the word out with scorn. "I don't like butterflies either." I stuck out my tongue for a moment in distaste. That only made Dan laugh again, putting his mouth to mine.

Startled, I squeaked once, but relaxed quickly, letting his tongue brush mine and opening my mouth to invite more.

He obliged, lying himself back on the grass, and pulling me atop him. My legs fell outside his and we both groaned as I pressed hard against his hips.

"Jenn, I don't want to lose you," he murmured into the skin beneath my ear, lips pecking their way down to my neck.

I groaned again, feeling him growing beneath me. "You aren't going to lose me. I'm not running anymore." I gasped in response to him grabbing my hips and pulling me over him. His track pants and my shorts did little to separate us.

"Good. I'm not giving you up, now that I have you." His mouth was in the crook of my neck now, kissing toward my shoulder and the edge of my shirt. His fingers were brushing up my back beneath the rosy cotton.

"Thank God." I tightened my thighs around his hips and started pulling up on his shirt.

A bicycle bell brought me out of my lust-filled haze.

"We shouldn't be doing this here," I reminded him. It was a public place, and there were kids all over the park.

"Right," he said sadly. "I can behave," he promised. "I think."

I laughed. "I'd like to see that."

"You would?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"See you behave!" I said quickly, nearly shouting.

His grin was impish and I knew he was still thinking of something else. "I really like the idea of undressing you outside," he told me, fingers sliding up under my shirt, bunching it on my arms. "Feeling the breeze on your skin, kissing where the sun touches." He did that now, my forehead and cheek. "But somewhere less public," he agreed.

"And definitely during the day." My mind had drifted to the awful place it sometimes went. I had been undressed in an alley, on the street. It had been nightmarish.

He cringed in realization. "Yes, on soft green grass or a sandy beach," he promised. "I can't afford to take you anywhere, but maybe the lake?" he offered.

I smiled back, happy with his effort. "The lake sounds great. Tomorrow?" I asked, eager now.

He laughed and hugged me. "Can't wait another week?" he teased. "I don't know that I want to either. Tomorrow sounds good. Afternoon? We have a show tonight."

I nodded my agreement. "In town, right? I'll be there," I promised.

"Can't resist watching me work?"

"Something like that." I leaned into him again, tracing his jaw with my nose. What I couldn't resist was his voice, and the words of the songs were usually so evocative. Better in private, but I'd take all I could get. "Think you'll save enough voice to serenade me?"

He chuckled. "We'll see. Of course, tomorrow, I'd like to make you sing."

I shivered at the implication. "God, tomorrow can't come fast enough." I squirmed in his lap, feeling less decent every moment.

"I agree," he whispered into my ear before licking it and sending yet another wave of tingling down my spine.

"I'm going to develop a tic if you keep that up," I warned him.

He laughed loudly and rose, helping me to my feet. "I'll take it easy for the rest of the day then." He bent to kiss me before retrieving my pen. "So, what are the princess and her knight up to now? He still fighting for her?" His smirk said he knew the answer. I turned over my notebook and he started reading. "Heh, riding him is she? Think he's a good ride?" he asked, eyebrow cocked.

I smacked his arm. "Yes, he makes an excellent steed."

He laughed and picked me up, hefting me over his shoulder. "I'm not sure I can wait until tomorrow. There's gotta be some bushes around here."

I kicked and he smacked my bottom, making me squeak. He set me down under a tree then pulled off his shirt, letting me see those wings on his back again.

"Are you going to save me?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Take me to heaven with you."

"Oh," he answered softly, putting his forehead to mine. "Yes. I'm always going to be here for you, Jenn. I'll never let anything happen to you."

I groaned slightly. "Could you not remind me of that when I'm finally feeling good?" I pushed him and leaned back on the tree, jumping up again as I noticed the ants crawling over the trunk.

"Sorry," he whispered, his face nearing mine again, pecking my lips. "Let me make it better?" he asked, wrapping arms around me.

I gripped his biceps, throwing myself into the kiss. It was agony knowing how close we were, how many hours we were going to wait. "You had better not stand me up tomorrow," I warned. "I might die of frustration."

"We can't have that. If I'm going to save you, I had best be able to save you from that." His hand slid up my shirt, fingers grazing my ribs and making me inhale sharply. I leaned back on the tree, dizzy, oblivious to the ants now.

"Let me take the edge off." He opened my shorts and lifted one of my legs to his hip. His hands drifted, one into my panties, the other over my back, my breast, my belly, never firm, always brushing. His lips moved over my collar bone, my neck, my ear. His hand teased me, already hot and greedy, nudging my engorged skin. I almost screamed when his finger entered me, giving me just what I needed. He pulled it out only to add a second. I gritted my teeth, my insides clenching.

"That's amazing, Dan. Don't stop."

His lips, still on my ear, tickled as he moved them, whispering. "Who said anything about stopping? Tip up a little more," he told me, lifting me in both hands, my skin rasping on the rough bark of the tree.

The fire on my back was nothing to the rushing heat he was creating in my pants, making me gasp louder. "Oh God," I murmured, clutching him more tightly. "Oh God."

"Use those words for me, Jenn. Tell me what I'm doing to you. Tell me where to touch you." His thumb brushed my folds as his fingers moved and I banged my head against the tree trunk again, hair snagging.

"Right there. You're hitting my... God."

"I am? Right here?" He curled his fingers again and I knew he was playing me. Not like a game, like an instrument - like his guitar, making the hum inside me grow and reverberate.

"How are you doing that?" I asked, the last grunted as my jaw snapped shut a groan coming with my peak. My head tucked to his shoulder as I clung to him, shaking.

"Fighting it?" he asked as I shuddered. "I'll fight for you." He stroked me further and the pleasure renewed, intense.

"Holy... God... Fuck..." I hated the word, but nothing else seemed suitable for what was going on inside me. That was exactly what he was doing. "Coming."

"Good," he purred in my ear, holding me from the rough bark as I continued to convulse. "Lean on me."

He set me down, sitting beside me against the trunk. Were there ants? I didn't see any ants. I didn't see much through the haze of my half-closed eyes. His arm wrapped my shoulders and pulled me into his side. "Think you'll make it to tomorrow? I'd hate to lose you to frustration."

"Oh my God. What are you going to do to me tomorrow?" My eyes flew open, wide with speculation.

He waggled his eyebrows. "You'll see."

"Save me," I murmured.

"That's the plan."


	55. Week 56: The Beach

Kimmydonn Week 56

Posting Date: June 15, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: Both

Title: The Beach

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"You're kidding right?" I asked, looking at the jewel case I'd been presented with.

"What? You don't want my CD?" Dan asked, obviously offended.

"It's not that," I said quickly, holding the small square closer in case he tried to take it away. "I meant the cover." Dan and his bandmates were on this very beach behaving like a pack of lunatics.

"Oh, yeah? What about it?"

I shook my head. "Nevermind, it's nothing. Thank you."

"Say, I was thinking about your Princess story." He began kissing down my neck. Finally, what I'd come here for. Not that yesterday hadn't been amazing, but I still wanted to feel _him_ inside me.

"Yeah?" I asked, finger tracing his inseam, up to the drawstring of his shorts.

"Maybe we can talk about it later."

"Now is good," I teased, drawing my finger back down and finding him stiffening, following his length.

"Now is very good," he agreed. He coughed as I pulled my hand away, raising my eyebrows for him to continue. "Oh, uh, I was at the library and wondering why I can't find anything of yours there."

I sighed, threading my fingers together in my lap. "Because I'm not that good. Because everything I've sent has been rejected."

"Oh, Jenn," he murmured running a hand through my hair. "I didn't want to bring up anything bad. I just saw this girl with a stack of books, all romances and fantasies, and I thought she'd like your Princess story."

He distracted me with his lips on my ear, teeth nipping the lobe. I started to groan, but he pulled away this time. "You know, authors can be as indie as bands. You don't _need_ anyone to tell you you're good enough."

I hung my head. Self-publish? Wasn't that just admitting no one wanted my work?

"Hey. Don't think about it," he urged. "Think about what you want … from me." His voice never failed to make me melt. Well, when he dropped the cocky attitude, anyway.

"Dan," I murmured, pulling myself closer to him as his fingers teased the skin between my shirt and shorts.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"It would be admitting defeat." His lips paused their descent down my neck, and his hands stopped lifting my shirt.

"Oh, you're talking about the book. Geez, don't change gears like that on me. I thought you were giving up on me or something."

I laughed now. "Would you like that? Would you like me to just lie back and let you have your way with me?" My hands still around his neck, I pulled him down as I laid back on the sand.

"It would make it easier." His grin was as cocky as any I had seen. I had barely narrowed my eyes when he recanted. "But that wouldn't be you, and I _want_ you." His breath was in my ear again. His chest started to press on mine and I could feel him hard against my thigh.  
"I want you, too," I murmured, fingers pulling at his hair as he teased the skin under my shirt, slowly pushing it up. "Are you sure there's no one here?" I asked, breaking the moment again.

"I'm sure. And so what if there are? They get an eyeful, that's their problem."

I smacked the top of his head while he was kissing the bottom of my breast. He sighed, looking up at me.

"Fine, do you want to fuck under the picnic table?" he asked in a suffering tone.

"On second thought, maybe I don't want to fuck at all," I complained, pushing him off me.

"Is that right?" he asked, cocky smile returning. "Okay, then, let's head home."

Bluff called, I was still hot and bothered. He walked past me toward the parking lot, giving me an excellent view of the tatto wings on his back. Heaven.

"Wait," I said, not raising my voice. He stopped instantly, looking back at me with a quirked eyebrow. "I don't want to go home," I mumbled.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that." He held a hand to his ear. I strode the two strides to reach him and pulled his face to mine, my nose touching his.

"I don't want to go home," I said slowly, kissing him as I finished.

"Good, I didn't either," he admitted with another grin. "I want to see you in the sun." As soon as the words were out, my top was off. I hastily wrapped my arms around my chest, but it didn't matter as he followed by tugging my shorts to my ankles. "I wanted this." He kissed me through the panties I still wore, nipping and sucking.

"Dan," I murmured, releasing my breasts to hold his shoulders as I swayed. His arm caught me behind the knees and I fell, his other hand catching my head before it hit the sand.

"I'm going to get sand everywhere, just to warn you. But we can have fun cleaning it off later, okay?" That voice ... I didn't give a damn about sand, or eyes, or the fact that he was tugging off my last article of clothing. I just wanted him to keep talking to me, touching me.

* * *

_The knight swept the table clear of her potions, her herbs, her talisman. He pulled her over his shoulder, laying her down on it. She had become a dead weight on his back once the spell was cast, and he needed to be sure she was all right._

She was breathing. That was the first thing he noticed - the rise and fall of her chest. He put his head to the table in relief. Her eyes fluttered, and she turned her head to regard him.

"I'm fine," she told him, moving her hand slowly to his hair. "Just ... very tired. I'd think you were worried for me."

He huffed, raising his head. "Of course I worry for you." His voice was gruff with emotion. "Do you think I'd put so much energy into keeping you alive if I didn't care?" He put an arm behind her shoulders and knees, lifting her from the work table. "I'll get you to your bed."

Snuggling into his chest, she hoped to keep him there, even if she only slept on him.

* * *

I woke feeling water under my calves. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the bright light. Dan sat beside me, reading my notebook. He hadn't dressed yet and I enjoyed seeing him, soft and tucked between his crossed legs. It made me want to...

"You're awake. I was starting to worry about you getting burnt. Nice nap?" he teased, closing the notebook.

"Please, like you didn't pass out with me." I snorted without impunity.

He chuckled. "True. You are quite the sex kitten, Chase."

I blushed, sitting up and covering myself. I was a bit pink from sun.

"I meant that in the very best way," he murmured, lips at my ear.

"Well, you made good on your promise. I have sand in my... everywhere."

He laughed. "And I promised to help get it out. Let's go." He picked me up and I started to struggle. He kept his grip on me for a few paces and then dropped me into the water. I came up spluttering.

"You are an ass," I told him flatly.

"Yeah, but I get you hot." As if that was an appropriate answer.

He knelt in the water and started touching me, brushing sand from my ass, tracing the crack to make sure every grain fell free. He kissed me as he worked forward, brushing my folds. They were still somewhat engorged, and I groaned into his mouth as he held them open and traced between.

"That feels so good."

"I'm glad. No scratchy sand?" His finger pressed into me, hooking and pulling. There was the odd grain, rubbing hard as it came out, but nothing painful.

I shook my head.

"Hope I'm clean," he said, and as he did I felt him rub along me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I asked, nearly squealing in my haste to pull away from him.

He laughed. "You mean one of these?" he asked, pulling one hand from the water to reveal a torn packet. He made it disappear again between his fingers, then brought it back again.

I flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah. One of those."

"Don't worry," he whispered in my ear, pressing himself to me again, "that's the only thing I'm going to let come between us."

I shivered, wondering if I trusted him and the pill enough. I might... next time. He proceeded to lift me again. However, some sand had gotten on the condom. It burned, rubbing into me.

"No," I said with a grunt, pushing away with my heels. He sighed but didn't press.

"Oh well, that first time was good enough to last me a day, maybe two."

Although I was just as eager for next time, I didn't want to give him that impression. "And where do you think you'll find me next time?"

"Maybe your room? On your bed? With Marla listening in the next room. Make her jealous." I shivered, but didn't really want that. I liked my roommate.

"Maybe," I allowed. "Maybe once you get me home and clean," I suggested instead, knowing she was out with friends.

"Done!" he said eagerly, sweeping me up again. I giggled as he ran.

* * *

_"What are you doing?" the knight asked his charge._

"Recovering," she told him, swinging a leg over his waist.

He chuckled, rolling toward her. "Recovering? You can barely lift your head." He kissed her forehead, smoothing her hair from it.

"I don't need to rise," she reminded him, grunting a little to lift her other leg.

"Sleep, Princess," he told her, kissing her temple and ear while his hands circled her. "I'll stay here until you are... recovered."

She smiled, happy to get her way, again.


	56. Week 57: Dreams To Be Followed

Kimmydonn Week 57

Posting Date: June 22, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Dreams To Be Followed

* * *

Lisa tried not to sigh as her hair was curled and sprayed again. She looked over at her current partner in this scene. She was so damn cute - big brown eyes, glistening hair, small yet gangly. She was playing a he, too, showing her prowess. Now, if only she'd follow cues.

Daisy was currently sprawled on the set floor, her spots shining under the lights, obviously too warm. She normally lived in a forest where it was spring, and her coat wasn't built for this. Lisa felt sorry for Daisy, then she remembered how many petticoats this stupid costume had and felt sorry for herself again. She was getting too old for this. Daisy wasn't old enough. That was part of the problem. Rather than paint spots on a small but yearling female, they'd gotten a true fawn. The poor thing.

Lisa didn't smile as she approached Daisy and her handler. The fawn lifted her head a little and Lisa took the bottle of water from the handler, holding it for the baby. She licked at the nipple before sucking. The fawn probably wanted milk, but she'd had enough, so Thom said, and was just dehydrated.

"Look, Daisy, I know this gig sucks, but you know what? You work with me on this next scene, we get this done, and you get to quit for the day. I have to wear this get up for another four hours, but you're finished. Doesn't that sound good? In fact," she looked over her shoulder before continuing, "this should be the last scene you have to do." It wasn't true, but what was left focused so little on the deer, they could CGI one in, or use a different fawn. Poor Daisy needed off this set.

Lisa waited until Daisy had finished drinking and then waved to the director. Everyone started moving when he barked. The scene went without a hitch. Daisy walked to Lisa on cue, pulling on her sleeve in the middle of her mock-trance to break it.

Lisa gave Daisy one last stroke and a kiss on the top of her head before moving to her next scene. She finished her day feeling stretched thin. She usually didn't need more than the makeup touching time to spin her thoughts around to the correct place in the script. Normally, she could advance her character to that point in the story and step out of the chair ready. For some reason, today, she never felt completely certain she was on solid footing. She was never sure she'd portrayed the character properly. The director didn't chide her or give Lisa any indication she was falling short of what he envisioned, which gave her hope that she was doing the story justice. She left the set tired and out of sorts.

"What's the matter, Princess?" Ford asked as he drove her to the hotel.

She wrinkled her nose. "Don't call me that. Nothing really, just ... never nailed it today."

He didn't answer. He'd long ago given up trying to tell her she did a great job. After a few discussions, it had become clear he didn't know what to look for, how to know if it was a good job or not.

"Something on your mind? Outside the job? Maybe, something to do with the calendar?" He smirked and she frowned, not knowing what was up.

"Nothing with the calendar... unless you mean the way they keep rearranging the shots for the day. THAT is maddening."

"No," Ford said with a sigh. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Lisa asked from beside him.

He shook his head. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

She sighed and closed her eyes as he drove her home. She might have drifted off, she often couldn't tell, her dreams merging seamlessly with plot lines and stories on set. Occasionally she dreamed about her lonely existence off set, but that was too similar to reality as well. She noticed when the car stopped, though, and waited obediently for Ford to open her door.

"I think," she paused to yawn, "I might not find my room without you."

He chuckled. "Maybe one night you'll find mine."

She snickered and elbowed him. They spent most nights together; those when she didn't pass out as soon as she got to her room. On those nights, they'd watch a game or play cribbage, anything normal. Anything that made her feel like less of a lonely freak.

She opened the door and threw her card on the side table, kicking off her shoes. Closing her eyes, she leaned back on the door and was surprised to find a warm body instead.

"Ford?"

"Sorry. I wanted to give you something."

Lisa wrinkled her brow. Give her something? "Ford, you don't have to give me anything."

"Happy Birthday to you," he sang off key, pulling out the lighter that so often lit her cigarettes. "Happy Birthday to you." He lit a series of candles on top of a horribly misshapen but chocolaty frosted cake. "Happy Birthday, dear Lisa." He carried it over to her. "Happy Birthday to you."

She'd completely forgotten it was her birthday. It was just another day on the job, another day chasing her dream without ever grasping it.

"Thank you, Ford," she murmured, feeling a frog in her throat. She cleared it before blowing out the candles. "You bake that yourself? You aren't trying to poison me, right?" She tried to lighten the mood for herself.

He snorted. "I'm in charge of your well being. I'd never feed you something I cooked." He sliced a piece and laid it on a plate. "My niece made this, under my sister's supervision. She's twelve. She's a big fan of yours and lives in town."

"She does? She is? Why didn't you say anything?" Lisa smacked him.

"Because I know you don't like to play favourites. Because you're usually so tired at the end of the day, I don't think to mention her." He shrugged.

"I want another birthday present," Lisa demanded.

"Yeah? Let me guess."

"Where does your sister live?" She started tugging back on her shoes. "We can't eat this whole cake anyway." She picked up the platter and her card by the door.

"Jamie's going to freak if I don't tell her you're on the way."

"Is that your niece?"

"No, her name is Kelly. Jamie's my sister. She's probably still going to give me hell for only giving her fifteen minutes."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "She'll want to clean up."

Lisa shook her head. "Don't tell her. I'll tell her I told you not to call. I don't want them to go to any trouble. I just want ... normal for a while."

Ford hugged her shoulders and kissed her head. "I know you do. That's why I mentioned to Kelly that you'd love a cake."

"I do." Lisa blushed as she looked down at the rather ugly, but very tasty, creation. Maybe her dream wasn't impossible. Maybe she could have it all. Her phone beeped. Her mother had sent a message, hoping work was going well and that Lisa was having a happy birthday. "I'm going to make a call while you drive," she told Ford, opening her phone.

He grinned and closed her door for her.


	57. Week 58: Mug of Tea

Kimmydonn Week 58

Posting Date: June 29, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Both

Title: Mug of Tea

* * *

Hitting send, she set her phone down on the bedspread and lifted the cup of tea to her mouth. The lemon's tartness complemented the honey's sweetness, reminding her of him twice. So far away. It would be past midnight where he was, which is why she sent a message rather than calling. Still she wondered what he was doing, if he was dreaming, if he dreamt of her.

How long would they make this last? She'd been in Sydney for two months and the messages were getting fewer and further between. It was too expensive to just fly in for the weekend, which is why she wouldn't be back in the States for several more months yet. This deal was lucrative, but not _that_ lucrative. She looked at her phone again, smiling. He wasn't asleep.

* * *

The tea was helping. He'd gone to a concert and didn't want to head to bed right away; he had a night shift tomorrow and staying up would be good. Tea wasn't the same as coffee, but it didn't bother his stomach as much. Since that wipe out a month ago, when his bike met a car, his stomach had been very disgruntled when he had too much acid: citrus fruits, coffee, cola.

Coke.

He missed Coke almost as much as he missed her. His phone chirped and he pulled it out of his pocket, setting the cup down.

Of course, it was only mid-afternoon in Australia, even though it was the dead of night here. He read her email slowly, savoring every word, feeling closer to her because she had just sent it. He sent a quick text before dialling.

**I miss you more than Coke.**


	58. Week 59: Need to Talk

Kimmydonn Week 59

Posting Date: July 6, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Need to Talk

* * *

"Mom? Can I talk to you?" I did a quick double take. Sarah was _so_ lucky Peter was out of town for a conference. He would have conniptions if he saw her out on the roof. Mind you, if Peter were home, he probably wouldn't like me out here either. Sarah's aunt and namesake had died by falling from this very roof and we both knew how that made her father feel, but we came out anyway. I noticed her pick her steps very cautiously until she sat across from me, crossing her legs. "Please?"

It must have been important. "Why here?" I asked, wishing she'd asked a couple of hours ago instead of while I was watching the sunset.

"Working up the nerve," she admitted, giving herself a little shake. "You remember I went out with Jake last weekend?"

I nodded. She went out with Jacob every weekend. It made me smile. I never had a steady boyfriend in high school, constantly sending mixed or too subtle signals. Sarah had never had that problem. She'd been very forward with boys since she was sure they didn't have cooties, around the age of twelve. She and Jacob had been on again, off again, on again for years. They were both due to graduate this year. I knew their friendship would survive distance but not their other feelings.

"Well... we kinda..." Sarah took a deep breath and turned red in the face. What? Was something wrong? "Had sex," she finally managed to get out.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. I'd long since moved away from home before I lost my virginity, several years older than Sarah was now. I couldn't imagine telling my mom about it. I'd told my best friend, Jamie immediately, and she'd already guessed by the look of shock on my face what had happened, but Mom?

"Yeah," Sarah said looking at her hands. "We were careful and everything, but it hurt, a lot." She still wasn't meeting my eye. "Is it supposed to hurt? I thought it would feel good."

I sighed a little in relief. This was the kind of question I could answer. "It will. It's like a lot of things. It takes some getting used to. You were careful?" I asked, smirking slightly.

"Yeah, he used a condom. I think that made it worse though. It was very... scratchy?" Her nose wrinkled, showing her dissatisfaction with that word.

"Sticky?" I suggested, and she nodded. "Yeah, that can happen. It'll get better with practice." My eyes narrowed, slightly angrily. "I hope you won't be _practicing_ again soon."

She chuckled. "Not soon, no. It was... well more of a goodbye." she turned around to sit beside me, looking out over the lights of town. Her head rested on my shoulder. "We didn't know if we'd stick it out, going to different schools and him moving away, but we wanted to do it together before he did."

I put an arm around her shoulders and leaned my head atop hers. "I understand. That sounds like a good reason. You two will stay in touch," I assured her. "You are too close as friends not to."

I felt her cheek twitch in a smile. "Yeah. Remember when his brother doused him at the water park because he thought I gave Jake cooties?" She laughed. I snorted at the memory.

"I do. I also remember him taking you to your junior high prom."

"And him and Dad being stupid at that barbecue we had."

"And his brother setting off a firecracker when he tried to kiss you."

That made Sarah laugh hard enough to sit up. "I thought I was going to pee my pants, he scared me so bad. What a brat!"

"Nothing can take those memories away, Sarah. You'll make new ones, not lose the old ones," I assured her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too. Now let's get inside. I can feel your Dad's blood pressure rising a state away."

She laughed but followed me in off the roof.


	59. Week 60: Taking Time

Kimmydonn Week 60

Posting Date: July 13, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Taking Time

* * *

Tim and Geoff were moving around the set. This was Lisa's first film with Burton and she was thrilled. Not only because she got to work with one of the directors she admired, but because they were filming in New York, less than an hour from her parents' place.

"You look remarkably laid back for someone who can't get her work done until these two stop messing around." Ford said, handing her a bottle of water that she sipped from gratefully.

"You don't rush art," she said with only a touch of sarcasm. In one way it was true - the shadows from the stones of the wall, the pieces on the set, they all worked together to give the impression, the mood that Tim wanted. It was up to Geoff to light it properly. In some ways, Lisa had the simplest job, perform on the stage they set.

Lisa knew what Ford meant, though. More than enough directors pushed and rushed, forcing the actors through scenes they weren't prepared for, weren't ready to perform. Lisa was quick to respond, hitting her marks regardless, a trait that made her sought after. She appreciated this care to detail, the time given to make it all just so. It really did make her job easy.

"Alice," Tim called, beckoning her.

Lisa chuckled and handed the bottle back to Ford. A makeup woman adjusted her wig before Lisa stepped under the lights. Tim knew her name, but he'd never forgiven his casting manager for not finding her to play Alice in his version of Alice in Wonderland. She was flattered, but thought it was a bit silly to keep calling her that.

Barely acknowledging him, Lisa took her place and prepared for the call. "Action."

* * *

Ford was only a little surprised when Lisa bounced into the car after work instead of flopping into the seat.

"What's up?"

"You know," she complained, rolling her eyes. "Step on it."

He chuckled and drove her to her parents' house.

"Mr. Guinness, Mrs. Guinness," Ford greeted them both, turning for the car as Lisa ran up to hug her dad.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lisa's mother asked, snagging his elbow. "You are staying for dinner," she declared.

Lisa laughed and hugged her mom. "I've missed you."

"We've missed you, too. Hard day?" Tenderly, she swept the blond strands out of Lisa's face. "You look tired."

"I feel great," Lisa assured her. Then she yawned. "Probably could do with more sleep, though."

"Well, perhaps your own bed will help with that."

"You're welcome to stay, too, Clifford," Lisa's father assured him. The large man gaped a little.

"Uh... I already have a hotel booked."

"Cancel it!" Lisa demanded. She burst through the gate into the backyard, kicking off her flip-flops to run through the soft dirt and grass and jump onto her swing, the one tied to her tree. It was so good to be home.

"Please consider it," Mrs. Guinness insisted squeezing Ford's arm before following her daughter and joining her on the long seat. "Feel old?" she asked looking up at the tree that had been small when Lisa left home for her first role.

"A little."

"How is she?" Mr. Guinness asked the burly bodyguard. "She keeping you hopping?" He watched the pair of women on the swing, each looking so much like the other – the younger seeming so much older and grown up, the older seeming young as she laughed and grinned.

"Not a bit," Ford answered with a chuckle, watching Lisa carefully. "If anything I wish she did. She seems lonely." He frowned and felt Lisa's father move to stand beside him.

"She chose a lonely life, constantly on the move, most connections fleeting. I could wish she'd never dreamed bigger than this." His gaze took in his neat yard, his white house. Ford understood. Her father could wish his daughter had married someone local, stayed near home, gone to a regular college instead of tutors.

"You don't," Ford said with certainty. He didn't know the Guinnesses well, but he knew they both supported Lisa. They were happy that she knew what she wanted and had the determination to work for it despite all the costs.

"No, but I could," he said again. "I worry when I see all those girls and boys behind the ropes at premiers, when I bring in the mail and see letters addressed to her."

Ford stiffened. "Anything-"

Mr. Guinness stopped him. "Nothing worse than bad poetry." His tone was light but his face still sombre. "You'll keep taking care of her? I need someone to watch over my little girl."

Ford clenched his jaw against the tightness in his throat, the tightness he heard in the father's voice. "I will. Nothing will happen to her."

Mr. Guinness clapped Ford's shoulder and turned for the house. "Good. I should keep an eye on the grill so the ladies can enjoy themselves."

Ford stood watching a while longer.


	60. Week 61: India

Kimmydonn Week 61

Posting Date: July 20, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: India

* * *

eat rolling in waves,  
haze surrounds.  
Water in the air,  
water on the ground.  
Red, white cloth flowing  
allowing breezes through  
Pachyderm kneeling  
prayers between two.  
Simple search for pleasure  
Woman coming of age.  
A trip of simple leisure  
turned a pilgrimage.


	61. Week 62: What Just Happened?

Kimmydonn Week 62

Posting Date: July 27, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: What Just Happened?

* * *

I stand ready, my guard up. I know the attack could come from either side, but will most likely come from behind. They love biting into the back of a neck, breaking it if possible. That way the kill stays fresh while they feed. Disgusting creatures. I wasn't about to have my blood taint the snow.

_crunch_

I whirl to meet my opponent, blade raised. He's fast and ugly as sin, but he'll be much prettier without that head. His black-red blood stains the snow, not mine, and I turn for his friend, adding another kill to my tally. Heph will be pissed when I pass him again. I grin with satisfaction.

My cockiness is my demise. A third bites into the side of my neck and I scream in pain and rage. My glasses are knocked from my head and I fall to my knees, everything becoming dark.

* * *

My legs are wet. Why are my legs wet? And I smell salt, feel a breeze. Are there breezes in hell? I suppose I could be in heaven, but I doubt they'd take me. Opening my eyes, I prepare for the worst.

Wait a minute. I've been here before. A year ago, before the incident, before the virus turned most of us into monsters. Why am I here?

I start to get up and realize I'm wearing the same dress I wore a year ago, and my hair is long. I'm also wearing my contact lenses. How long since I had a pair of those? This is some dream. Heading back down the path that had brought me here so long ago, I find my parents — my dead parents

"Mom?" I ask in a choke. "Dad?" I run to them and hug my mother tightly. Maybe I am in heaven.

"Cindy? What's wrong, honey? Weren't you having fun?" she asks smoothing my hair.

"Fun?" I ask, incredulous. "Yeah, lots of fun. It's great watching monsters tear apart everyone you love." The tears that started at the sight of them multiply and roll down my cheeks. "Really riotous."

"Cindy?" my father asks in a serious tone. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. I'm obviously dead and I didn't manage to find anything to help anyone."

My parents look at each other and I can see the questions they're asking each other.

"I'm not insane," I argue pulling away from them. "This place stinks," I claim, storming off.

"Cindy, wait!" my mom calls chasing after me. "Talk to us. Tell us what happened."

"You both died, okay? You were infected and turned into... them." My voice is still cracking, and I am still stomping. My stupid hair will not stay out of my mouth. "Bleh, and why give me back this?" I complain, fighting it into a knot on my head.

"You love your hair, honey. You've been growing it out since you were four." My mother tugs on a lock.

"Yeah, well, it's a pain in the ass when you don't have reliable water and it gets caught in everything. That's why I cut it off six months ago."

"Six months ago you were still in class," my father argues.

"Yeah, if this really was July of 'fifteen." 2015, the year everything ended. 2016, the year those of us left tried to make a beginning.

"But... it is," my father tells me. "You were just walking into the surf and then sat on the shore. You were so happy a moment ago." He rubs my shoulder, too.

"Shut up," I say, my mouth sagging a little. "It's really July tenth? Manson is still in business? There haven't been any... accidents?" I ask, trying to lead them.

"No, honey. Manson? Since when are you interested in pharmaceuticals?"

"Just since they bred a super virus," I mumble. "It's really July tenth and I really just graduated a week ago?"

"Yes, Cindy. Your tassel is still hanging from the mirror of the car."

"We still have the old Ford!" I shout with glee, remembering how important a vehicle that was simple to fix became. "I can do something! Maybe I can stop the whole damn thing." I gave my each of my parents another hug. "Call a cab. I need the car. Trust me. Bye!"

"Cindy? Cindy!" My mother's shout is lost behind me as my hair falls out of its knot. My legs tangle in my skirt and I yank it higher, hoping there's a knife or scissors in the glove box. I need to lose this hair and then I need to kill a very bad doctor.

* * *

a/n this is TOTALLY going to be my NaNoWriMo story this November. Just so you know. ;)


	62. Week 63: Waking Up

Kimmydonn Week 63

Posting Date: August 3, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: both

Title: Waking Up

* * *

The last leaves fell from the trees while I slept. Sitting up slowly, I neither stretch nor scratch. I don't want to lose any heat I don't have to. I blink bleary-eyed into the dawn and wonder how I will face another day. Is there any way out of this downward spiral? I lost my wife. I lost our savings. And finally I lost my job.

I idly wonder who's yard I'm trespassing in today. It takes almost all my determination to get up, but I do. I have to find a new job, before I become so mangy no one will look at me.

There's a small scream, and I curse quietly, closing my eyes. When I open them, I see the back of a girl in a red coat, running to the house.

I can barely hear the woman on the porch step. "Jessica! What has gotten into you. Oh! Hello!" Jessica's mother smiles and waves as she calls. Not sure it's a good idea, I come closer.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten her," I apologize, smiling at the girl and the woman.

"Where did you come from?" the woman asks, eyeing my heavy clothing, my tangled hair.

"Very sorry," I murmur, turning to go.

"Wait. Where are you going?"

"I... I need to get... the Employment office..."

The woman nods. "You are off to look for a job. Come in and use our shower. Turn the odds a little more in your favor." She holds the door open and Jessica races back out again in her red coat. "Jessica! You stay in the yard!" she yells after the girl. "My name is Grace, by the way."

The gratitude I feel to this stranger, offering me her home, even only for a few minutes, is overwhelming. Would I have done the same? She is well named. "I'm Jim. I can't thank you enough for this."

"Nonsense. Just some hot water. My husband was laid off for six months. We almost lost the house. I understand what you're going through. At least you're still trying. Getting harder all the time, though, isn't it? How long since ...?"

"A month," I admit. "They repossessed the house a month ago. I managed to keep my job for a little while, but the work ran out."

She follows me into the kitchen and I start to unwind scarf and overcoat, revealing my under coat, jacket... The clothes seem to take forever to remove and some I haven't removed in a week. She disappears from the kitchen at a trot and comes back with a bath robe.

"Here. Wear this and I'll wash the lot. I'll find you something of my husband's while you're in the shower."

"Thank you." My voice breaks, and she takes further pity on me, wrapping my dirty, smelly body in a warm hug.

"Hush, Jim. Accept and pass it on. That's all we can do. I had to accept my neighbor's groceries and babysitting and you have to accept my laundry and shower. It all goes around."

I hop in the shower, and sigh immediately at the hot water pouring from the head. I haven't been truly warm in days. Looking at my feet, I cringe at the murky water gathering there as I wash. At least it drains away quickly.

I'm just grabbing the shampoo when the door opens. Through the frosted shower door, I see Grace silently lay clothes on the toilet seat and pick up my filthy underwear. She tiptoes out as quietly.

Wearing clean clothes feels... odd. They're a little big on me, probably because I've lost so much weight, but Grace's husband is close to my size. I open the bathroom door and my mouth waters.

"Are they ready, Mommy?" Jessica asks from the end of the hall, the kitchen.

"Settle down! They're still hot. Take off those shoes before you muddy the whole kitchen," Grace complains.

The smell of what Jessica is waiting for is unmistakable. Cookies. Hot from the oven, sugar and flour and eggs - cookies. As I round the corner, I see the chocolate that I couldn't quite smell.

"Daddy?" the girl asks in surprise.

Grace jumps slightly at the sight of me, and I shift nervously. "He does look like Daddy, doesn't he?" she agrees.

"I'm sorry. I'll stay out of the way..."

"Would you like a cookie?" she asks, indicating the cooling rack on the table. Jessica kneels on a stool to grab one, dropping it immediately to shake her hand and blow on her fingers.

"I told you, they're still hot," Grace chides her, hugging her and tickling her ribs. "Please, Jim. Sit, have a glass of milk." She must see how hungry I am.

"Thank you." I sit in the chair across from Jessica who now has chocolate smeared on her top lip. I smile and she smiles back, revealing more chocolate on her square white teeth.

"Is he our new Daddy?" she asks Grace, who pales and slops the milk she is pouring.

"Jessica! No, he's Jim, and he needs our help."

"Oh, okay," the girl replies, munching her cookie.

"I'm sorry about that," Grace mumbles.

"Your husband?" I ask, afraid I know the answer.

"Three days back on the job, he was killed. The life insurance was a godsend in some ways, but I'd give every penny to have him back." Her eyes water, and I long to hug her as she did me, but I'm afraid to — afraid of offending. Instead, I squeeze the hand on the table.

"I know. I lost my wife." I sigh heavily. "I didn't have insurance to give even that little help. It's how I lost the house."

"Can I have another?" Jessica asks, breaking the tension.

Grace chuckles lowly. "Yes, you can have another. Look, Jim why don't you come back later tonight for supper with us."

"I... I couldn't... I don't want to..."

"Accept," she whispers, squeezing my fingers where they curled around around her hand. "Break the cycle," she murmurs, and closes her eyes. "Please, break the cycle."

At first, I think she was talking about the spiral I am caught in, but then wonder if she means another.

"I'll try. Thank you, Grace."


	63. Week 64: Standards

Kimmydonn Week 64

Posting Date: August 10, 2011 (due to a computer error, actually posted August 12)

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: Picture 1

Title: Standards

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Lisa blinked her eyes open at the familiar sound of her alarm. Her mother had found her an old fashioned windup one that she could take anywhere. It hadn't failed her yet.

"Mmm, don't get up." Lisa rolls away from the groggy man sharing her bed. Shaking her head to clear it, she wonders just what she did the night before. "Really, honey, you're gorgeous. Don't they make you up? You can lay in bed a little longer."

Lisa inspects the many tattoos on his arms and chest. How drunk was she? She didn't usually go for guys like this. Pulling on her top, she recalls a welcoming party that her new co-star, Alex, had insisted she attend. This guy, she really couldn't recall his name, had been her constant shadow. Well, it had been more than long enough since she'd been laid. Judging by the burn in her thighs, she'd enjoyed him a lot. She fought a groan as she pulled on her boy shorts and jeans.

"Look, you don't have to rush out, but don't be here when I get back, got it?" she said tersely. The last thing she wanted was a relationship with this guy. I mean, there was a good lay and there was a boyfriend. She knew the difference.

"Are you really Lisa Campbell?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and grinning, "cause my friends aren't going to believe me."

"Good," she muttered, stepping into her flipflops and yanking open the door to her room. "Thank God, Ford," she muttered, trotting up to her burly bodygaurd. "Why on earth did you let me bring him back here?"

Ford looked up from his coffee toward the door. "He seemed nice." He sipped his coffee not smiling or meeting Lisa's gaze.

Lisa crossed her arms and scowled. "Do you even know who he is?"

Ford snorted. "I know his social security number. I get paid for a reason, remember?"

Lisa chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, leaning over him in his chair. "I love you, Ford, but really, my taste in everything, especially boys, is terrible when I'm drunk. You can't let me bring them home. It ruins the morning."

He laughed louder. "I love you, too, which is why I let you see the error of your ways when it isn't a risk."

Lisa stuck her tongue out at him. "You know, this love thing is tough. How do you manage it?" She smirked.

"That's what they pay me for."

Lisa nearly sprayed her coffee. "That makes you sound like a gigolo."

The night before wandered out of the room in just his pants. "Is it seriously six A.M.?" he asked.

"It seriously is, and as you pointed out, I need to be in makeup in thirty. Don't steal anything," she said with a sigh, rising and heading for the door. "Ford knows where you live." She didn't even look back, but Ford stepped up to the strange man, puffing out chest and paunch both. "Sixty-three Spruce Boulevard. I think your mom might be interested in what you were doing last night."

Lisa clicked her tongue. "He lives at home? Seriously, Ford, be my standards, would you?"

Ford closed the door behind her. "I try. You really needed that," he admitted, seeming out of sorts for the first time that morning.

Lisa sighed. "Apparently I did. You sure I can't pay you for that, too?" she joked, hopping through the door Ford held open for her.

He swallowed and shifted himself before rounding the car to drive.


	64. Week 65: RubaDub

Kimmydonn Week 65

Posting Date: August 17, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Rub-a-Dub

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Who thought tequila was a good idea? Probably Wes. He was the one who'd gone to Mexico recently. It was good stuff. Smooth. If only it hadn't landed me in this predicament. Why was Sarah laughing so hard? Why was I sitting in a tub?

"Sarah?" I asked, blinking against the harsh light. "What are you doing?"

There was another flash, and I realized she was taking pictures.

"Oh, Jake, your mom is going to love this," she said between giggles.

I looked to my left and saw Wes rubbing at his eyes. He looked to be in nearly as bad shape as I was. On my right was Andrew. He had shades. I nearly snatched them off his face, but he threw up an arm to protect them.

"Fuck off, dude," he slurred.

"Did you guys finish the whole bottle?" Sarah asked, holding her camera steady but away from her face. Great, she was probably taking video now.

"Maybe," Wes muttered. "I think Andy ate the worm."

My friend belched suddenly, and I thought I might pass out from the fumes.

"What time is it, Sarah?" I asked, pulling myself out of the tub.

"Seven. You guys looked so cozy in there." She turned the camera around to show me a different shot. My head was leaned into Wes' and Andrew's was on my chest. We did look cozy, if we weren't all scrunched in a tub.

"How many pictures did you take?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Well, this isn't the first memory card," she said with a smirk, snatching her camera back.

"Good," I muttered.

"Good?" Andrew's voice was a cross between a squawk and another belch.

"Do you remember what we did last night?" I asked him.

"Uh, yeah, good," he muttered, thumping out of the bathroom. Springs creaked as he flopped on a bed in another room.

"I'm outta here. Thanks for the party, Sarah," Wes said to my girlfriend, pulling on a pair of jeans as he sauntered out.

"Do you want to see this now?" she asked, holding the small plastic square that I assumed held horrors from the night before.

"No," I decided, following Andy's example. After all, what was done was done. I couldn't change a thing on that stupid card. I might as well be properly prepared when I faced it.


	65. Week 66: Leave Me Alone

Kimmydonn Week 66

Posting Date: August 22, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

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Picture Choice: both

Title: Leave Me Alone

* * *

Seriously, back off, would you? I'm not trying to be rude, but your nose is just a little too far in my business.

What's that? You want to know how I compose? Gee, no one's _ever_ asked me that before. Do you do anything besides annoy people with questions? Write anything **original**?

Well, then you know how I do it. I take an original idea and hear it. You see it; I hear it. That simple. Music is just the sound of a place and time. Not the noise, the essence. I find that and then replicate it on the keys.

Yes, I can play other instruments. I appreciate flutes, actually. They're very nice to compose on and let me play around more with keys.

Are you slow? Not keys like a keyboard, musical keys, like D major. Really, don't waste my time. I'm actually working on something now.

I'd rather not tell you what it is. It's not even close to finished. I'll tell you what the dissonant theme is, though. It's a nosy reporter who's up in my face. Please, back off and leave me alone.

Mo-om! I'll do my homework after supper. Would you tell this woman to go away?

Oh, yeah, thanks for the interview. I hope we can do this again sometime.


	66. Week 67: Uh, Thank You Very Much

Kimmydonn Week 67

Posting Date: August 31, 2011

Picprompt. blogspot. com

* * *

Picture Choice: Picture 2

Title: Uh, Thank You Very Much

* * *

Sarah set the bear on her bed with pride. I looked at it, a little confused.

"Jake gave it to you?" I guessed.

"Yes! Isn't he sweet, Mom?"

"He's very ... large," Peter said, staring at the bear whose feet took nearly half the width of her single bed.

"Yes!" Sarah agreed. "He's so lovable!" She bounced on the bed and hugged him. "Jake won him at the fair for me. He cost ..." Our fifteen year-old daughter did some math. "Twenty-five dollars."

"Well, that's not bad. What game was it?"

"Ring toss," she said, sitting up. "He's like my Jam!"

I smiled broadly, remembering the fair Jamie, my best friend, and I won our matching bears, Jam and Bet.

"Except, he's Jake?" Peter asked, still a little uncomfortable and confused.

"Yes!" Sarah was so excited and happy, every sentence was an exclamation. "My best friend, Jake." She kissed the top of the floppy bear's head. "Do you think he'll be my friend as long as Jamie?" she asked me.

"I don't know, sweetie. Maybe he'll be a different kind of friend." Peter glared at me, obviously not wanting to think about that. Well, he'd better think about it. Our daughter and her friend would at some point.

"Oh." For the first time since coming home she was subdued, quiet. Then she perked up and ran past Peter out the door. "Sorry, Dad!" she called as she clipped his shoulder in passing.

She returned with Peter's acoustic guitar. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him play it indoors. It was something he indulged when we were camping, when I indulged. She set the guitar in the bear's lap and stepped back. The toy was large enough that the guitar didn't look ludicrous in its paws.

"Isn't he sweet?"

"I wanna be you're teddy bear," Peter sang with twang and I had to laugh.

Sarah's lip curled in disgust. "That was awful, Daddy. What was that?"

"Elvis," Peter grumbled, obviously unimpressed with our daughter's lack of recognition.

"Why don't you take a picture and send it to Jake, to thank him?" I suggested.

"Great idea. Thank you!" She hugged me, and I chuckled at her exuberance.

Peter and I closed the door as we left. "Can I be _your_ teddy bear?" he asked, waggling eyebrows.

I laughed. "You aren't fluffy enough to be a teddy. I'll wear one for you, though," I replied, pulling from his grip to trot to our bedroom.

"Uh, thank you. Thank you very much," he said, making me roll my eyes.


End file.
